


State of Uncertainty

by Metatron



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Eo is seriously fucked up, Eobard has a lot of feelings, Fluff and Angst, Here have some INTRIGUE, Humor, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Slow Burn, but so is Barry, non-con is not between Eobard and Barry, post Legends season 2, post-Flash season 3, the speed force is a dick but really really ships eobarry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-04 08:32:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 31,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10987287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metatron/pseuds/Metatron
Summary: "Why do you hate me, Thawne?" Barry whispered."It doesn't matter anymore.""No, it does. If I'm going to be trapped inside this fucking Speed Force purgatory with you, I want to know the truth."After being erased from existence (again), Eobard Thawne wakes up inside a Limbo-world inside the Speed Force, only to be joined by Barry Allen who just sacrificed himself to take Jay Garrick's place in the Speed Force and stop the destruction of Central City. It turns out that be stuck together in a world where they can't kill each other might change more than a speedster would think.





	1. PART I

The last thing that Eobard Thawne remembered was being erased from existence. Again. Well, technically he didn't really remember the first time, since it had happened to an alternate version of himself, but he got flashes. Sometimes. He'd claimed the spear of destiny from those positively idiotic "legends" ( although they were far from that, in his opinion). For a few shining months, Eobard had finally had everything, but the Legends had gone back in time to rewrite his changes to reality.

After some skirmishes between them and the legion, Eobard finally had the spear back in his hands, only to find that somehow Sara fucking Lance had drained it of its power (how was that even possible?? Eobard definitely thought it wasn't) and come face to face with that thing; the monster who had been hunting him for months throughout space and time. It grabbed him, and his body seared with pain, until there was nothing. At least, there should have been.

Instead, Eobard woke up in the middle of a forest. The light dappled through the trees and danced over the dirt, flashing in his eyes. Eobard blinked and tried to sit up, his body feeling decidedly not how it should feel after having been erased from existence. Logically, he shouldn't even have a body. He flopped back down on the dirt, feeling even more done with life than when The Flash had trapped him in a cage for months or even when he'd had to deal with the tedious (although admittedly very handsome) Malcolm Merlyn.

"What the fuck is my life," he muttered, closing his eyes.

He hadn't exactly wanted to die, but would it really be too much to ask if he actually died for real, just this once? Unless he was dead, Eobard's mind offered. Which would mean that- oh for fucks sake, this was the afterlife, wasn't it?

"You've got to be kidding me," he said, taking in his surroundings.

He'd noticed he was in a forest before, but not much more than that. Now he saw he was on the edge of some sort of clearing, populated by some tall grass and a few sparse bushes. The tall pines and aspen trees obscured some of the view, but Eobard could see the telltale shapes of mountains rising above them. By the position of the sun in the sky, Eobard guessed that it was probably going to be night soon. Suddenly the glinting of metal in the distance caught his eye. Off in the distance, just peeking over the tops of the trees was a structure, definitely man made.

Eobard stood up and dusted himself off, and allowed himself to connect to the speed force. It sung through his veins and bones, filling every part of him with impossible energy. He would never get sick of this feeling. The speed force was eager today, he noticed absentmindedly as he sped towards the structure. It was easier to connect than any time in recent memory, and it felt good. If this was the afterlife, which Eobard had to admit he hadn’t believed in, it wasn’t half bad.

He reached the base of the structure, which was a tall, winding tower that sat looking out over the mountains and the forest. Quickly, he sped up the many flights of open stairs up to the small cabin-eqse enclosure at the top. It was only a single room, windows making up the majority of the walls. Curious, Eobard moved toward the singular door embedded between the windows.

‘ _Mt. Anabasis Fire Lookout Tower, established 1908_ ’ a plaque on the door proclaimed. Huh. A forest fire lookout? Even by the 21st century, these towers were mostly obsolete. Well, it explained the tower’s architecture and position looking out over the valley. He tried the door, and to his surprise it was unlocked. Eobard stepped inside and examined the small room. It wasn’t anything extravagant by any means, but it looked well-kept. In one corner there was a small stove, a sink, and some shelves holding various canned foods. On the other side of the room lay a small bed, neatly made with several blankets on top. There was also a desk and two chairs, and in the center of the room sat a table with maps and charts strewn out across its surface. Eobard picked up one of the maps, glancing over it quickly. To his annoyance, it didn’t give any indication of where exactly he was other that what he’d already surmised. Sighing, he put the map back down and got to work examining the rest of the room.

There were basic, neatly folded clothes in some of the cupboards, and after a brief moment of deliberation Eobard speedily put them on, eager to get out of his sweaty and bloodied Reverse Flash suit. To his surprise, the clothes fit him perfectly, even the leather boots he found next to them. Although it was a little strange, Eobard’s day had been grating enough that he didn’t feel like pondering whether or not this was a coincidence. The sun had almost set now, so Eobard flicked on the hanging-bulb light and the smaller lamp near the bed. He quickly ate some of the canned fruits and energy bars he’d found near the stove. Strangely, he didn’t really feel hungry, but Eobard knew from experience that it was better to stay on top of his advanced metabolism.

A few more minutes passed and the sun sank behind the distant mountain ridges. With the tower’s actual resident still nowhere to be found, Eobard figured that since he’d already stolen this guy’s clothes and food, it wouldn’t be too bad to take his bed for a while. After all, if the person who lived here came back, Eobard was probably going to have to kill him anyway. He flopped down on the bed, the cold sheets comforting against his overheated speedster body. From wrestling for an ancient mystical artifact during the Battle of the Somme to being erased from existence (again! He wasn’t going to let that go any time soon) to waking up in some weird forest with an old fire lookout tower, this had been an exhausting day, even by his standards. He supposed, then, that it wasn’t unfair to allow himself a little bit of pleasure. Eobard closed his eyes and reached down under the waistband of his pants to softly grasp his dick. Carefully, he called to mind one of his favorite fantasies and he slowly caressed himself.

_He was back in that cage, the awful one that Barry had kept him in during Flashpoint. Barry would come, bringing food and barely contained rage that flashed in his eyes whenever he mocked the Reverse Flash. He would taunt Eobard, trying to get him to bite and release his rage at the Flash’s comments. Eobard wouldn’t fall for it, though, remaining calm and collected despite his hatred for the Flash._

_“This world isn’t real, Barry,” he would say. “Your perfect life, your parents, Iris West- it’s all a lie. You’ve made this...this fantasy, because you know you’ll never really be happy. You’ll never have what you really want.”_

_Barry would hiss and him, and flash closer until he was just on the other side of the bars of Eobard’s cage._

_“And tell me, Thawne,” Barry would spit out, lightning crackling in his eyes, “What is it that I really want?”_

_Eobard would smile, slow and painful, and get as close as he could to Barry on his side of the cage._

_“You want me to fuck you,” he’d whisper, daring Barry to look him in the eyes. “Look at you. I know you. You want nothing more than to take the one thing this paradise of yours can’t offer you. In this world you could have Iris, or Patty, or any of those other lovely girls with a snap of your fingers. But in all these months, you’ve done nothing. I see you, Barry Allen, and I know the way your eyes linger on me when you think I’m not looking.”_

_Eobard grins. “There was another version of me, wasn’t there? You wanted him, but you couldn’t have him. But now,” he spreads his hands out, gesturing at himself, “You have an Eobard Thawne right here, under your control. So, Flash, what do you say? Do you want to be,” Eobard narrows his eyes and smirks, “happy?”_

_And then Barry, beautiful, godly Barry, so full of rage would break. Lust would mix with fury in his eyes and he would rip open the cage, smashing his lips against Eobard’s._

_“I hate you,” Barry would say, holding him down and gasping for breath between kisses. “I control this world, this timeline. I don’t need you, and I’m going to prove it. I’m going to let you fuck me and you’ll see...you’ll see it won’t make a difference.”_

_Barry would bite down on his neck, working off their clothes until they were both hot and panting against each other._

_“We’ll see, Flash,” Eobard would croon, and then they would move against each other, harder, faster, Eobard working his fingers into Barry’s ass and then-_

Blindingly, Eobard comes into his hand, letting out a soft moan and falling back against the cool sheets. Sighing, he lets the post-orgasmic aftershocks relax his muscles. He’s a little bit proud of himself; this is the farthest he’s gotten with that particular fantasy before coming. Eobard rolls out of the small bed and quickly cleans himself up with a towel, before shutting off the lights and curling back up underneath the covers. It’s been a long day, and Eobard still doesn’t know where he is or what the fuck happened to him so that he’s still alive, but he supposes there will be time to figure that out later. He closes his eyes, and finally lets the cool embrace of sleep take him away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I'd first like to say that I'm so grateful to all the people who commented and left kudos on the first chapter, it really makes my day when I see those notifications in my inbox.  
> Second, this is the first big fic I've ever attempted, so I'm pushing myself to go beyond anything I've ever written before and flesh this out as much as possible. I don't know how often I'll update, and I don't want to make any promises I can't keep, but I think I'm going to try and post about a chapter or two a week. As for how long this baby is going to be, I can honestly say I have no idea, so please just stick with me.
> 
> And don't worry, even though this is a slow-burner I'm going to try and fit in some smut where I can. (I don't want to starve you guys!)

Eobard woke up to the hot feeling of the sun on his face. Blinking, he brushed his hair back from his forehead and rolled out of bed. The sun shown through the windows on the Eastern side of the tower and cast long shadows across the small room. Eobard felt better than he had in months, even during the time he spend in the reality created by the Spear of Destiny. Even before becoming a speedster it was rare that he’d be able to sleep the whole night uninterrupted. 

He splashed some water from the sink on his face, relishing in its cool freshness. In his time, water almost always had to be boiled before use to get rid of bacteria and pollution. Even the Thawnes weren’t rich enough to afford natural water fresh from the arctic regions. Eobard quickly scarfed down a can of cold beans and some dried beef jerky- it isn’t Big Belly Burger by any means, but it’s not terrible. 

The goal of the day: Eobard intends to figure out where the hell he is, when the hell he is, and why the hell he isn’t dead (because he really should be, he thinks. Unless he’d miscalculated the Black Flash’s lethality). And probably find some way to wash off, if possible. Although there isn’t anyone around Eobard guesses that the stench of blood and sweat is pretty potent.  

First things first, Eobard examined every piece of paper he could find inside the tower. There were a couple of books on fire-spotting, basic survival, a guide to plants and animals, and the like. Stacked neatly on the desk were several record books, stretching back to the 1950s, but when Eobard quickly flipped through them he found that they were all blank. It was much the same with the calendars and any other notepads he could find- nothing written in them at all, absolutely no signs of use.

Clearly, Eobard thought with a shake of his head, if there was someone living here, they were pretty shit at keeping records. 

The maps on the center table gave him a little more insight- they showed the topographical features for about a fifty kilometer radius from the tower, nearby lakes, rivers, and mountains labeled neatly. However, there isn’t much more than that and there aren’t any maps of the larger region. Having pretty much exhausted what he could find in the tower, Eobard stepped outside. 

There were birds singing in the nearby pine trees, although he has no idea what kind. Birdwatching was never really his thing. The view from the tower is impressive, the whole valley is spread out before him, reminiscent of the paintings his parents liked to take him to see at Central City Museum of the Arts when he was younger. A clear, blue lake sparkled below, cradled in the center of a ring of mountains. Off in the distance Eobard could see snow-capped peaks stretching as far off into the horizon. It was quite beautiful, he thought. Peaceful. The kind of place where he could have imagined vacationing with his family, had they ever been inclined to do that sort of thing. 

He shook off the thought and headed down the wooden stairs to the bottom of the tower. Passively, Eobard remarked on the fact that he hadn’t given a thought to the idea that the Black Flash might still be chasing him. For some reason, he felt safe, like he knew that now that the monster had caught him, and sent him to wherever he was now, that he didn’t have to worry any more. The Speed Force was calm here, and seemed to be present in the very wind that ruffled Eobard’s hair and cooled his overheated skin. 

Only a few days ago, Eobard would have been scared stiff by the idea of being randomly dropped somewhere and would have tried to run away as fast as possible, but now... he just felt tired. He’d been running for so long, maybe it was time to slow down.

“Or maybe I’m just getting old,” Eobard muttered to himself.

He shook his head and set out to examining what he could find at the base of the tower. There wasn’t much to find; just a few power generators and solar panels, a bare-bones outhouse, and a small storage shed. The shed contained some basic tools, but no more clues as to where Eobard was. 

With that, he decided it might be best to head toward the lake he’d seen before. He summoned the Speed Force, which jumped eagerly at his call. The journey down to the lake wasn’t a difficult one, but Eobard had to be careful not to run into any bugs that might be suspended in the air. If there was one thing he hated about being able to run at superspeed, it was the astonishing amount of insects that would somehow plaster themselves to his clothes and face. God, if he had a nickel for every time he got a bug in his mouth, he would have been able to fund all of the research he’d wanted to do as a grad student and then some.

He reached the shore of the lake, where the delicate greenery met moss-covered boulders and soft, lapping waves. Carefully, he stripped off the borrowed clothes and folded them neatly on a rock near the shore. Eobard slowly waded into the cool water until he was about waist deep. Then he set to work washing himself. Though all his cuts from the battle with the Legends had healed, the blood and grime still remained and had formed a thick, disgusting crust on the parts of his body where his Reverse Flash suit wasn’t as durable. Inwardly, Eobard cursed himself for not remembering to check the tower for some soap, because it definitely would have made his job easier.

Well, it was too late now, he’d just have to do without. He allowed himself to lean back and let the water submerge him completely. Eobard floated blissfully with his eyes closed for a few moments, relishing in the ability to have the time to do so. Slowly, he ran his hands up and down his body, freeing the grime and gently scrubbing until he was as clean as he was going to get. Briefly, his hands brushed along his cock, bringing to mind memories of his activities last night. Eobard’s cock twitched gently in response, and he was sorely tempted to repeat the fantasy and see how much further he could get, but he got a hold of himself and quickly banished the idea from his mind. He had work to do. There would be time for more frivolity later. 

He waded back over to the shore and dried himself off the best he could (regrettably he’d also forgotten a towel. He wasn’t used to forgetting things, maybe he really was getting old?). Then he pulled back on his slightly damp clothes and sped back up the mountain towards the tower.

To be honest, Eobard wasn’t actually too concerned as to where and when he actually was. It would be nice to know, of course, and it would give him something to work on, but he was finding more and more that he didn’t actually care. For the first time in what must have been years, he was finally free. No evil Speed Force monster chasing him, no quarrelling with the Legion over the Spear, no Flash to bother him.

Of course, that was exactly when the universe decided to yet again fuck over Eobard Thawne. 

He was running leisurely, not paying too close attention to where he was going, when he ran smack dab into something warm and most decidedly human. Collapsing to the ground, Eobard found himself accidentally straddling and staring into the eyes of one Barry Allen. A.k.a The Flash. A.k.a his nemesis. A.k.a the man he hated most in the entire universe.

“Thawne?” Barry said, staring up at him with eyes full of surprise.

And really, there was only one thing Eobard could do.

“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!” he shouted.


	3. Chapter 3

Eobard stared at Barry. Barry stared back at Eobard. 

"You're sitting on me," Barry stated blankly, after a few moments. 

Meanwhile, Eobard's mind was a constant stream of  _ whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck _ , so it took him a few seconds to process that Barry had said something. 

"Wha- GET OFF!!!" Eobard screeched, leaping away and landing in a pile of leaves. 

"You were the one on me!" Barry replied defensively, rising to his feet and brushing himself off. 

Eobard glared at him from his position on the ground, trying to look as intimidating as one can be while covered in leaves. 

"What are YOU doing here, Flash?" he said, trying to take control of the situation. He stood up and tried (tried being the key word) to shake off the leaves in a dignified manner.

(Barry's snort told him that he had most likely failed miserably. He didn't know for sure, though; he wouldn’t put it past Barry to snort at him just for the sake of it)

"I could ask you the same question, Thawne,” Barry retorted, crossing his arms. “What exactly are you doing in the Speed Force?” 

Eobard’s face contorted in confusion.

“In...the Speed Force? What the hell are you talking about?”

Barry sighed.

“I...to be honest, I don’t know. I’ve had a long day. The last thing I remember is walking into the Speed Force to save the city, and then I woke up here.”

At this point, Eobard was torn between pulling out his hair and then curling into a ball to cry because  _ how was this his life _ and intensely questioning Barry so he could know exactly just how bad the Flash had fucked up that he had to sacrifice himself to the Speed Force.

“But we’re in a forest,” he commented plainly, not sure what else to say.

“Yes, Thawne, I did notice that.”

“And you’re telling me that this forest is not, in fact, a forest, but an elaborate illusion existing within the Speed Force itself?”

“You’re saying that, not me,” Barry replied with a shrug. The two stared at each other again, neither sure how to continue.

“You know,” Barry said, breaking the silence, “You’re surprisingly not-murdery. I guess that’s just because you’re part of this illusion, isn’t it?” He frowned bitterly. “A nice Eobard Thawne. The Speed Force  _ would _ do that to torture me.” 

“I...what...I’m not an illusion!” Eobard said indignantly, slightly offended that Barry thought so. Had he really fallen so far that not even his nemesis could tell that he was the real Reverse Flash?

“Then, to repeat my first question, how the hell are you here?” Barry demanded, eyes narrowing. From what Eobard could gather, this version of Barry was probably the one whom he had met during Flashpoint, although maybe a few months older. He couldn’t be sure, though; he didn’t have enough data yet. Barry hadn’t tried to kill him yet, or do anything other than insult him a little bit, so by their standards this conversation was going astonishingly well.

“I…” Eobard wrung his hands, “I was being chased by this monster, I’ve been calling it the “Black Flash,” because it has a suit kind of like ours, only pure black with a red insignia, and long story short; it caught me, and then I was killed and erased from existence, I guess. After that I woke up here,” he said. 

“Wait, you know about the Black Flash? How-”

“Look,” Eobard said, cutting him off, “I think we can both agree that this situation is weird, seeing as we’ve been talking for several minutes now without trying to kill each other, and honestly I really don’t have the energy to fight you right now. So, on that note,” he said, sighing and knowing that he was absolutely going to regret this, “Why don’t we go and get some food and continue to “catch up,” as you Twenty-First century people are so fond of saying?”

Barry raised his eyebrows.

“Um, okay, but I don’t exactly see a Big Belly Burger around here.”

“Don’t remind me,” Eobard said, before gesturing for Barry to follow him and and then speeding off in the direction of the fire lookout tower.

God, this was strange, Eobard thought. Waking up in this weird forest that was apparently in the Speed Force, Barry showing up and not immediately trying to rip him into tiny pieces. The strangest part of it all, in Eobard’s opinion, was that he hadn’t had a single urge to kill the Flash since he had shown up. Eobard still hated him, still wanted to see him gone, but…

“God, maybe I really am getting old,” He murmured. 

Eobard ran at speed until he was at the top of the tower, then he waited the few seconds it would take for Barry to arrive. It wasn’t long before the Scarlet Speedster appeared beside him. Barry’s brown hair was wind-tousled from running without his cowl on. A few beads of sweat peppered Barry’s forehead and he was panting slightly, probably from the heat rather than the exertion of running. They hadn’t ran that far after all, and it  _ was _ pretty steamy out. 

Regardless, the picture wasn’t exactly good for Eobard’s imagination, as his brain immediately provided an image of Barry sweating and panting for a very different reason.

_ Not right now!!! _ He told his brain frantically. 

“Is this place yours?” Barry asked, sounding slightly impressed.

“Ah, um, yes,” Eobard replied, opening up the door and gesturing for Barry to go in first ( _ It’s my place now, at least _ , Eobard thought). Barry raised an eyebrow.

“How gentlemanly of you,” he commented, stepping across the threshold. 

“Of course. Would you expect me to be anything other than a perfect gentleman?”

Barry mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “a murdering psychopath, maybe,” but Eobard probably misheard him.

“Annnnnyway,” Eobard said, clapping his hands together, “What can I get you? Heh. ‘Can’. Seeing as most of the food around here is canned. I have some, uh, pears? Fruit cocktail?” He said, rummaging around in the tower’s small food supply. 

“What about a drink? God knows I need one,” Barry muttered, flopping down in a chair and cradling his head in his hands.

Or several, Eobard thought, sighing.

“Unfortunately, it seems the only alcohol we have is for medical purposes, not that it would do much for either of us anyway.”

“Great. I basically died, you’re here, and I can’t even get drunk. This Speed Force afterlife sucks ass.”

“It could be worse.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

“Um, yeah! You could be erased from existence, for example! Not that I’m like, bitter or anything!” Eobard exclaimed, “Or, I don’t know, you could be locked in a fucking cage without food or a goddamn proper bathroom for several months! Or have to rely on some lame Green Arrow villains to get your shit done! Or-”

“Ok, ok, I get it,” Barry cut off. “Just toss me a can of beans or something,” he said, rising to his feet. 

“No, they’ll give you gas. I’m not dealing with that.”

“Fuck off.”

Eobard rolled his eyes in exasperation and handed him a can of tomato soup instead, opening up a can of cream of mushroom for himself. 

Barry groaned but took the soup anyway and downed it in a couple sips, then proceeded to toss the can aside and flop face-first on to the bed.

“That’s...my...bed,” Eobard said weakly, clutching his can of soup and looking on helplessly.

Barry gave him the middle finger.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Eobard whispered. Looks like he would be sleeping on the floor tonight.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eobard is pensive and drinks some coffee. Barry tells him who Savitar is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit longer one this time, to compensate for the fact that nothing super exciting has happened yet :P
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone that left kudos and commented!

Needless to say, the floor was a less than comfortable place to sleep. Eobard seriously considered hauling Barry out of bed (his bed! After all, he had gotten here first, that should count for something, shouldn’t it?), but eventually decided that the inevitable fight that would ensue wasn’t worth the effort. Barry could have his bed for the night, but after that he would be sure to solidify his claim.

Although Eobard hadn’t really slept, he sighed and got up. Barry was hogging all of the extra blankets and pillows, so Eobard had to make do with a collection of clothes gathered from the cupboards. The first rays of sun were just beginning to peek over the tops of the trees, their silhouettes casting jagged shadows into the tower’s interior. Barry was still fast asleep, snoring softly into the pillow. Eobard wrinkled his nose at the thought of having his face pressed against the pillow that Barry was currently drooling into. He would have to make a note of washing it or at least turning the pillow over before using it.

Eobard stretched and ran a hand through his hair. He’d slept in the same clothes that he had put on that first day, because he didn’t exactly feeling comfortable changing in front of Barry when he didn’t have the advantage of using the Speed Force to not be seen. This was just one more thing that they would have to work out between them. Eobard presumed that they were going to have to live together; he knew Barry well enough to expect that he would insist on staying here regardless of whether or not Eobard was here first. Eobard hadn’t exactly seen any other signs of civilization in this place, and he didn’t much fancy searching around for them just so he could live separate from Barry. Also, he found that he actually quite liked the tower, and he wasn’t going to let the Flash just waltz in and take in from him.

He walked over to the food supply and rummaged around for a few moments before finding a can of instant coffee. Not exactly gourmet, but it would do. He poured some water from the sink into a pot before putting it on the stovetop and turning on the burner. Coffee probably wasn’t the best thing for a speedster, but Eobard had always loved it and he wasn’t going to stop drinking it just because it made him a little more jittery than normal. The beverage had been one of the few things that his family actively deemed worthy of purchasing regularly, so he supposed it reminded him of one of the few good memories he had of his life in the 2100s.

Unfortunately, Eobard couldn’t use the Speed Force to make water boil any faster, so while he waited he looked through the books and papers on the desk again. Hidden on the shelf in between the books, Eobard found a small notebook that he hadn’t seen before on his previous search of the tower. It was a worn, spiral-bound little thing, filled with pages of neatly lined paper. He flipped through it, thinking it was going to be blank like all the record books, and it was, except for the first page. In tight, neat penmanship, a short passage was written:

 

_Hello, It’s me_

_I know I said I wouldn’t write again_

_But you plague my mind and haunt my dreams_

_Now I know you’ll never read this_

_Don’t worry, I wouldn’t expect you to_

_But I want you to know_

_That although I say I hate you_

_For what you do to me_

_For leaving me unable to think or speak_

_I can’t keep myself_

_From loving you with everything I am_

_And I pity myself_

_Because I realize you’ll never know I even exist_

_And I’ll never be more than_

_An indistinguishable face in an endless crowd._

 

Eobard stared down at the (Poem? Letter? Diary entry?) passage in his hands with curiosity. Who had written this, and how had he missed it before? He quickly flipped through the notebook again, because it seemed like this piece was the continuation of something else based on the usage of the word “again,” but the rest of the pages were still blank. Eobard felt a little sad for whomever the author of this passage was; they were clearly dealing with a serious case of unrequited love.

Over in the bed, Barry let out a small snuffle and burrowed his face deeper into the pillow. Much against his will, Eobard found his lips turning upward to form a small, fond smile. It was hard to reconcile this sleeping creature with the great and terrible Flash he had looked up to as a child and had fought so many times. This Barry instead was almost...cute, although Eobard was loath to use that word. Barry’s clothes were rumpled and he hadn’t even bothered to take his shoes off or pull back the covers before falling into bed. His hair was sticking up in odd places, similar to the way it when he would remove his cowl and mask after a fight. In sleep, Barry looked so peaceful and human.

Hearing the water on the stove beginning to boil, Eobard slipped the notebook into his pocket and walked over. He poured some of the boiling water into a mug and added a few spoonfuls of instant coffee, before stirring in the smallest pinch of powdered milk and some sugar. Eobard liked his coffee mostly black- it reminded him of all those long sleepless nights spent in the labs at Central City University trying to replicate the Flash’s speed.

He stirred his coffee and walked out onto the thin wooden balcony that wound its way around the tower’s main room. Taking a sip of the rich, black drink; Eobard leaned against the balcony’s outer railing and took in the early morning view. The birds were singing again this morning, flitting in between the trees and disappearing into the shadows of the branches. If he listened closely, Eobard could hear the rustle of the wind weaving through the pines and plunging down into the valley below. Even in Barry’s time, such blissful quiet would have been almost unheard of; there would always have been at least the distant roar of an airplane passing overhead.

The the chill of the morning air was lovely compared to the aggressive heat of the day. Eobard hadn’t seen a cooling unit anywhere in the tower, so he was a little worried as to what they might do if it got even hotter. Normally he might just suggest that they build one (it was just an AC. How hard could they possibly be to make?) but he doubted that he and Barry could find the necessary supplies around here.

Still, he supposed there were worse environments the Speed Force could have stuck them in. Antarctica would be hell for anybody, but especially so for a speedster. Eobard shivered. Intensely cold environments sapped a speedster’s powers and put their metabolisms on overdrive.

“It’s nice out here,” a voice from behind Eobard commented. Barry, still wearing his old clothes and hair mussed from sleep, padded over to lean against the railing next to Eobard.

“You been up long?” Barry asked.

“Just a little while.”

“I see you didn’t murder me in my sleep, so thanks, I guess.”

Eobard shrugged.

“Where would be the fun in that?” he said, taking another sip of his coffee.

Barry frowned.

“Hey, how did you get coffee all the way out here?” he asked, sounding slightly offended for some reason.

“I was blessed by the coffee gods,” Eobard replied cheekily.

“No, really, how did you get it?”

Eobard rolled his eyes and sped inside, appearing again a few seconds later with another mug for Barry.

“There was instant coffee in the supplies. I don’t know how you like it, so I just gave you milk and sugar,” Eobard said a little awkwardly, handing the mug to Barry.

“Thanks,” Barry said as he took the mug, looking surprised. They were both silent for a few moments.

“So,” Eobard said, turning to Barry, “Why haven’t _you_ tried to kill me yet? The last couple times I met you, you seemed pretty gung-ho about doing that,” he commented.

Barry sighed.

“You’re the Thawne from Flashpoint, right?” he asked.

“Yes,” Eobard answered, silently very pleased that Barry was using the name he had come up with for the alternate timeline.

“Well, after you dropped me on my porch after fixing the timeline, I went back to my life. Or tried to at least, because when I got back things were different. I assume you knew that would happen,” Barry said darkly.

“If you mess with time, you have to be willing to pay the price,” Eobard commented simply. In retrospect, that statement was as applicable to him as it was to Barry; he supposed his death at the hands of the Black Flash could be seen as penance for all the changes he made to time while searching for the spear.

“Heh,” Barry snorted, “Well, someone was definitely going to make sure that I ‘paid the price.’ Not long after I got back, I was attacked by a speedster who called himself Savitar.”

“Savitar?” Eobard said in shock, “As in THE Savitar? Mystic all-powerful speedster legend Savitar?”

“I see you’ve heard of him,” Barry remarked sadly.

“Heard of him? Barry, there’s hardly a speedster out there that _hasn’t_ heard of him. I’ve never come across him myself, but I’ve heard the stories. Nobody crosses him and lives, period. Is that why you had to sacrifice yourself to the Speed Force, to defeat Savitar?” Eobard said, beginning to put some pieces together. To be honest, he was very impressed that Barry ( _his nemesis!_ He thought proudly) had even had a chance to go up against the greatest speed being to ever live. Then again, he probably shouldn’t have been surprised, this was Barry Allen, the greatest person to ever hold the title of the Flash, that he was talking about. Eobard hadn't idolized the man for years without good reason.

“Wait,” he said, catching hold of another train of thought, “What does any of this have to do with why you haven’t killed me?”

Barry laughed softly. Bitterly.

“I’ll get there. As for why I had to sacrifice myself, it did partly have to do with stopping Savitar, but it wasn’t the only reason. You see, Thawne, you were wrong when you said you’d never come across him.”

“What?” Eobard said, frowning. “I don’t think I have, I’m pretty sure that I’d remember something like that.”

“You wouldn’t have known him as Savitar. Not yet. But that’s who he was going to become,” Barry took a breath, and shifted his gaze to look directly at Eobard, “Who _I_ was going to become.”

Eobard would deny it for the rest of time, but his jaw dropped.

“You’re...Savitar?”

Barry nodded.

“A future me is, anyway. And… I didn’t think it was possible, but he, he was _evil_. Wicked. So broken that he didn’t care who he made suffer as long as he won in the end. He even tried to kill Iris! Given, he didn’t know that she was a decoy, and the real Iris was safe, but he was willing to do it. I,” he choked, “I didn’t think I was capable of something like that. There have been some things I’ve done wrong, sure, but this was different. I know he wasn’t exactly me, but he could have been, and that really scares me,” Barry whispered, almost on the verge of tears.

Eobard didn’t know what to do. Part of him wanted to put his hand on Barry’s shoulder and comfort him, tell him that everything was ok, but he had no idea if that would overstep the boundaries of the tentative peace between them. Plus, a part of him, the deep, dark part that was still completely the Reverse Flash found pleasure at seeing his enemy so scared and broken. That part of him sang at the Flash’s pain; believing he deserved it for all the things he had done to Eobard. Eventually, he decided that the best option was just to do nothing.

Barry was silent for a second, before continuing.

“And, I guess...I just remember the things that the other Thawne that I knew said, the one that was Harrison Wells, about how the Flash from his timeline hurt him. Back then, I didn’t believe him, because I thought there was no way I could ever be that cruel and I was so angry at him that I thought he was probably just exaggerating and twisting things to his own means, but now, after seeing what Savitar was capable of...what I was capable of, I don’t know. It’s just,” Barry stuttered, clutching his still warm cup of coffee tightly, “If the other Flash that he knew, that _you_ knew, was anything close to being like Savitar, I can understand hating him. I can understand being willing to _travel through time_ to kill him and stop him from ever gaining power. And because of that,” he hesitated, “I don’t know if I can hate you in the same way I did before and want to kill you like I once did.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. Eobard still was having trouble believing that a version of Barry was the mythic Speed-God Savitar, and on top of that Barry had gone and sort-of forgiven him. He knew he should probably tell Barry that the Flash he had known hadn’t been a villain, just more of an arrogant prick, but the selfish part of him didn’t want Barry to take back the almost-apology he’d just been given.

“I,” Eobard said thickly, “I didn’t know all that happened to you. I’m...sorry.”

“It’s over now,” Barry replied, shrugging and trying to brighten himself up. “I stopped him from ever coming into existence, so he can’t hurt anybody anymore. Just after that, though, the Speed Force started to destroy Central City because there wasn’t any speedster in its ‘Speed Jail’ to stabilize it. I volunteered, because most of this mess was my fault, and if I’m here, I can’t become Savitar and I can’t hurt anyone,” he said, staring down at his coffee.

_Except me,_  Eobard thought. He shifted uncomfortably. Had he really just allowed Barry to pour his heart out to him like they were in some cheesy teenage movie?

“Anyway,” Barry said, clearing his throat and shaking his head, “What do you want to do today? It would be nice if you were able to show me around a bit.”

Eobard chuckled, although he was silently glad that Barry was the one to change the topic.

“To be honest, I haven’t really been here long enough myself to be a very good tour guide. The only place I’ve really been is the tower, other than a short jaunt down to the lake yesterday, after which I ran into you, literally, on the way back.”

Barry’s mood seemed to lighten at the memory of the way they had met, and he smiled.

“I think the lake will do just fine.”

“Well then, Flash,” Eobard said, a small smile creeping onto his face, “I will be happy to indulge you.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fluff is real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, let me get my excuses for why this didn't come out sooner out of the way: life has been insane because I'm moving in a few weeks, Independence Day brings out all the stupid people to where I work, etc. etc.  
> I also went around buying literally every piece of Reverse Flash merch i could find at my local comic con, which turned out to be a lot more than I thought there was going to be (yay!). People are sort of freaked out that I'm low-key building a Reverse Flash shrine but they can GET REKT because let me live my life and make my own poor decisions ok
> 
> Anyway here this is and THERE IS SOME ACTION NEXT CHAPTER WHOA so stay tuned for that
> 
> Sidenote: If you get a chance, read the most recent issue of the Flash: Rebirth comic, THE EOBARRY IS REAL IN THERE YO

Eobard picked out a new set of clothes for himself and another set for Barry.

“Here,” he said, throwing them at Barry, who wasn’t paying attention and had to use the Speed Force to catch the clothes before they hit the floor.

When Barry gave him a questioning look, Eobard explained, “I thought you might like something else to change into. Unless, of course, you want to keep wearing those same clothes forever. Which I wouldn’t recommend, because you already stink as it is.”

Barry just rolled his eyes. Meanwhile Eobard selected two bars of soap and towels and gathered up everything in his arms.

“Wait,” Barry said, “Are we  _ bathing _ in the lake?”

Eobard turned and looked at him with his most obvious are-you-stupid look.

“I don’t exactly see a shower around here, so yeah, we are,” he deadpanned. 

Barry looked hesitant.

“Is it sanitary?”

Eobard couldn’t help but laugh.

“Really?  _ That’s  _ what you’re concerned about? You know you can heal from basically any injury or ailment, right? Yet you’re concerned about lakewater?”

“But what if there are, like, weird germs or something in there?”

“Seriously? Ah yes, I can see it now: the great and powerful Flash, felled by a “weird germ,” as he so elegantly puts it. Such a terrible tragedy,” Eobard mocked with a smirk on his face.

“Well, when you put it like that…” Barry said, frowning. Eobard rolled his eyes.

“Catch me if you can,” he said before speeding away, not bothering to check whether Barry was following him.

The path down to the lake was just as beautiful as it had been before; the sun cast a golden glow over the cliffs and tall grasses, and made the whole scene appear very ethereal. Eobard felt as if he couldn’t really appreciate it while running at speed. Maybe he’d have to take a hike through the woods sometime. He’d never fancied himself a hiker, even before he became a speedster, but perhaps this was the perfect time to change that. This place did provide plenty of opportunity, after all. 

He stopped in the meadow just at the edge of the lake-- a pretty, open area of long, swaying grasses and mountain flowers shadowed by a small cliff. The foliage danced in the burst of air that was stirred up as Barry sped up next to time.

“We can just leave our clothes on that rock,” Eobard said, pointing to a small, flat boulder a little ways away from the edge of the lake.

“We’re actually doing this? We’re actually  _ skinny dipping _ in a lake in the middle of nowhere?” Barry questioned accusingly. Eobard sighed dramatically.

“I thought we already established this. We are  _ bathing _ , which has an  _ entirely _ different purpose than skinny dipping.”

“But...naked, though? Should we really just leave our clothes like this?”

“My God, Allen, must you make everything so complicated? YES,  _ naked _ , because trying to take a bath with your clothes on is idiotic.”

“Shut up,” Barry said, his face reddening slightly. “I...that’s not what I meant.”

And Eobard knew that. He wasn’t stupid. He knew  _ exactly  _ what Barry meant, and were he a better man, he would have just let it go.

Eobard was not a better man.

“Ah, I see. You’re worried about me seeing you naked, aren’t you?” he said, the corners of his mouth creeping up into a smirk. “Don’t worry, I won’t peek. Much.”

Barry reddened even further.

“Shut up,” he said again, although much quieter this time. 

They both removed their clothes, Barry purposefully keeping his back to Eobard. Not that Eobard was going to complain, of course; Barry’s ass was one of the most exquisite sights he had ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. It was taut, sculpted, and absolutely perfect, and Eobard couldn’t help but imagine how it would feel beneath his hands. 

Rather reluctantly, Eobard reigned in his imagination. It wouldn’t do to get a hard-on while he was in the nude next to the object of his fantasies. Once they were both naked, Barry was the first to head into the lake. Eobard quietly appreciated his retreating backside for a few seconds before following him.

He waded into the lake and cast his thoughts away from Barry the best he could before he set to scrubbing himself off. The cool water was a welcome relief from the hot, heavy air that drifted above the lake. Eobard was thankful that he had remembered to bring soap this time, finally able to wash off the dirt that the water from his bath yesterday hadn’t been able to take care of.

He heard splashing nearby and spared a quick glance to where Barry stood, about ten meters away. Based on his distance, clearly he was still self-conscious about Eobard seeing him naked.

Eobard snorted. What was Barry’s deal? Hadn’t he ever been in a locker room before? Being naked around other men wasn’t  _ that  _ uncommon. It wasn’t like Barry had anything to be ashamed of, either. His body was in perfect condition, the Speed Force made sure of that. 

While Eobard pondered this, he continued scrubbing himself down. He lay back in the water in order to get his hair wet, then lathered some soap through it. For a few moments, he just floated there with his eyes closed, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face and the coldness of the water surrounding him. He almost didn’t notice that the soap was slipping out of his hand.

Hastily, Eobard flailed in the water, trying to keep ahold of his soap. He juggled it haphazardly from hand to hand before it eventually slipped out of his grip altogether. 

He was about to dive down into the water to retrieve it (they only had a limited amount of supplies, after all; he couldn’t afford to lose his bar of soap for such a stupid reason) when he heard laughter behind him. Eobard whirled around only to find Barry doubled over in hysterics, giggling at him.

“What’s so funny?” Eobard demanded.

“You,” Barry replied, grinning cheekily. “You think you’re all tough and scary, yet here you are, defeated by a bar of soap.”

“For your information,” Eobard replied through gritted teeth, “I was not  _ defeated _ , I merely failed to keep ahold of a very slippery object, which is VERY UNDERSTANDABLE.”

“Whatever you say, Soapy.”

“Don’t you dare call me that!”

“Okay, why don’t I just call you ‘Eo’ instead, then?”

“Absolutely not!” Eobard shouted indignantly.

“Why? I can’t exactly keep calling you ‘Thawne’ forever, can I?” Barry responded, wading over towards him in the waist deep water. He stopped just a little bit away from Eobard. 

“What are you doing?” Eobard asked in confusion.

“I’m helping you look for your soap. As amusing as it would be to watch you try to find it yourself, it’ll go faster with the both of us searching.”

“Oh,” he replied simply. Eobard supposed that made sense. 

They both dove under the surface of the water, trying to feel around for the soap against the rocky, mossy lakebed. Eobard opened his eyes underwater, straining to see any hint of white through his water-clouded vision. Out of the corner of his eye, Eobard spotted the soap resting innocently on an algae covered boulder wedged down deep in the sand. He lunged at it, fingers just barely curling around its surface when it was abruptly snatched from his grasp. Barry grinned at him underwater and held the soap aloft in in hand mockingly. The both broke the surface at the same moment, and Eobard wasted no time in shouting at Barry in ire.

“Hey! Give it here!”

“Mmn, no, I think I’ll keep it, thanks.”

“ _ Barry _ ! That’s mine, you’ve already got one!” Eobard complained. Suddenly he was hit in the face by a spray of water. He stood there in shock as the water trickled down his face, mouth hanging open.

“I...You...Did you just SPLASH me?” he said in disbelief. Barry just laughed and flicked another wave of water in Eobard’s direction. Furiously, Eobard shoved a wave right back at him. The resulting splash fight was rather epic, as far as splash fights go; they both were thoroughly drenched by the time Eobard had resorted to spinning his arms at superhuman speed in order to create giant whirlpools of water directed at Barry. However, they were both laughing so ridiculously hard that the fight quickly dwindled down and they headed back to the shore to towel off. 

Eobard had just put on his fresh pair of clothes when he spotted a small shed hidden in the foliage on the other side of the lake.

“Hey Barry, look,” he called to the other speedster, pointing at the shed. “Do you want to go check it out?”

“Sure, why not,” he said, before speeding to the other side of the lake. Eobard took off behind him, just barely catching the trails of golden lightning Barry left behind as he ran.

By the time he got there, Barry had already vibrated the door open and stepped inside. 

“Look at all this stuff!” Barry said excitedly. The shed was packed with all manner of supplies from food to toiletries, and much more. A small canoe leaned against one of the walls, next to some skis and fishing poles. Eagerly, they both dove into the supplies as if they were children on Christmas, enthusiastically calling out any interesting items they discovered.

“Look at this net that I just found!” Eobard exclaimed, holding up a huge, fancy fishing net for Barry to see.

“When I say go, get ready to throw!” he replied happily. 

“...What?” Eobard said, lowering the net in confusion. Barry looked at him with a frown.

“I...It’s a meme, ‘We are number one!’ You know, from  _ Lazytown _ ? Robbie Rotten and all that?” he tried to explain. Eobard shook his head.

“Clearly they don’t have memes in the future,” Barry mumbled, turning back to the pile of stuff he had been sorting through.

“Memes?” Eobard scoffed. “ _ Of course _ we have memes, Barry. I just haven’t been to the Meme Museum often enough to recognize every Twenty-First century one that I see.”

“Wait, there’s a  _ Meme Museum  _ in the future? No way! Just wait until Cisco finds out!” 

Eobard chuckled. “If we ever get out of here, I’m sure you’ll have ample opportunity to tell him.”

“Yeah, I think-- Hey, look at this!” Barry exclaimed. He dusted off an old boombox, circa 1980s if Eobard had to guess.

“I wonder if it still works,” he commented.

“I think it should, it still has batteries and everything, and look, it’s got a tape in it!” Barry said, examining the boombox. He pressed the ‘on’ button and both speedsters jumped when music began blaring out of the speakers. 

“Hey, I think I know this song,” Barry muttered, brow furrowing as he tried to recognize the opening chords. 

“ _ Take On Me _ , by A-ha, 1984,” Eobard replied matter-of-factly. The beats and synthpop sound were unmistakable. Barry stared at him in disbelief.

“What? I like music,” he defended.

“Sure, but I didn’t think you’d like 80s music, being from the future and all,” Barry said.

“The 1970s and 80s are timeless! They produced some real classics!” 

Barry snorted and shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

“Excuse me? I’m allowed to have interests other than the Flash, you know,” Eobard said with a frown.

“No, it’s not that...It’s just that I feel like I’ve learned more about you in the past twenty-four hours than from all the time I’ve known you,” Barry said.

“I guess there are some things you can’t learn from fighting,” Eobard suggested.

“Guess so.”

They both fell silent while the chorus of the song played on in the background.

Despite everything, Eobard found himself feeling happy. Maybe Barry being here with him wasn’t so bad after all. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The intrigue continues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got this chapter all typed up, pardon the delay. I got kind of distracted by my Tomarry ABO smut stuff
> 
> I've finally got this whole thing planned out, and thus you'll see that I've updated the number of chapters. However, this is just an estimate and there may be more if necessary! (Yay!)
> 
> Enjoy!

“You’re gorgeous,” the Flash said, gently caressing Eobard’s chin. Eobard closed his eyes and concentrated on memorizing the feeling of Barry so close to him. The hot press of his torso against Eobard was almost suffocating.

Barry’s fingers trailed over his lips as he whispered, “I wish we could stay like this forever: just you and me, alone in the world.” 

Eobard opened his eyes and drunk in the sight of Barry so full of desire.

“Me too,” he breathed. Eobard leaned forward to erase the last few centimeters of distance between them and carefully pressed his lips against Barry’s. He felt Barry smile and reach around to cup Eobard’s ass. Eobard moaned and pressed back against Barry’s touch.

“Fuck me. Please,” Eobard pleaded, wrapping his arms around the Flash’s neck and pulling him closer. It was all too intense and he felt almost like he was falling.

Barry bit down and turned their kiss rough, dominating Eobard’s mouth with his tongue. 

The world seemed hazy and hot around them, like they were in the middle of a shifting lava flow or on one of those terrible carnival rides that spun you around until you were sick. Any specifics about Eobard’s surroundings seemed to escape him. There was only him and Barry, and even that distinction was getting fuzzy inside his head. 

Barry had somehow laid him down without him noticing and was pressing his hard length up against Eobard’s ass. He briefly wondered where his clothes had gone. With a breathy moan Barry pushed inside him and thrust deeply. 

Strange, Eobard thought, it shouldn’t have been that easy; he hadn’t remembered preparing himself. The momentary distraction was soon lost to the oppressive feeling of Barry inside him, however, which made everything else fade into oblivion. Eagerly Eobard wrapped his legs around Barry’s lower back, urging him deeper. Barry’s hands were still kneading the firm flesh of his ass and it felt absolutely delightful. 

Gasping for air, Eobard spread his legs further and chased the orgasm that was just out of reach.

“More,” he gasped, “Please, I need more-”

And the world fell apart around him.

  
  
  
  


Eobard lurched awake, gasping for breath. He was back in the bed in the firewatch tower. It had just been a dream. Reorienting himself, he couldn’t help but notice the sticky problem he had down below. His face reddened slightly. He would have to find a way to wash his clothes without Barry realizing why.

Speaking of Barry, Eobard spared a glance over to where the other speedster lay in a pile of clothes and blankets. Thankfully, he was still fast asleep and snoring softly. Eobard let out a sigh of relief. If by chance he had made any,  _ ahem _ , embarrassing sounds during his dream, Barry hadn’t been awake to hear them.

Why  _ had _ he been dreaming about that, anyways? Sure, sometimes he liked to fantasize about doing… certain activities with his nemesis, but when he did, he was  _ always _ the one on top. Eobard couldn’t possibly imagine himself EVER being willingly submissive to the Flash.

Reluctantly, however, he did have to admit that his dream had been more pleasant than he would have thought. Not that he would ever tell anyone that, of course.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

The day before, after they’d explored a bit more of the shed by the lake, both he and Barry had finally decided they’d had enough of the heat. Each of them had picked out a few items from the shed to bring back to the tower in addition to the towels and clothes they had brought with them.

“Really?” Barry had said to him when he saw that Eobard had opted to bring the boom box along.

“I find music to be relaxing,” Eobard had replied. “And plus, it creates atmosphere.”

_ “Atmosphere _ ?”

“Yes, Barry, as any interior design expert will tell you, creating the proper atmosphere in any given space can do wonders for the wellbeing of those living in it.”

“And you know this how, exactly?” Barry asked, with an eyebrow raised.

“For your information, I’ve made a point to be knowledgeable in a great many subjects. You never know what will come in handy,” Eobard replied calmly, continuing to pack his collection of chosen items into a duffel bag.

Barry scoffed.

“I’m serious, you know,” Eobard said. “Knowing how to sew was a great help when creating my first Flash costume.”

“Wait, you  _ made _ your costume?” Barry questioned in surprise.

“Yes, and I daresay it’s much better constructed than most of what passes for clothing these days,  _ thank you very much _ ,” Eobard replied defensively.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Barry said, raising his hands in surrender. “I wasn’t trying to insult you. I’m actually impressed; I don’t think I’d be able to make my own costume even if I tried. Not without some serious help from Cisco, at least.”

“...Oh,” Eobard said quietly. “Well then thank you, I suppose.”

 

After that they’d sped back to the firewatch tower just as the sun was setting. In the dying light radiating in from the windows Barry set to work cooking some ramen noodles for the both of them. While he cooked, Eobard had started to rearrange the pile of clothes on the floor back into a makeshift bed, until Barry surprised him by saying, “You can have the bed tonight, if you want.” 

Eobard stopped and looked up at him.

“You’re serious?”

Barry frowned.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know...I mean, you didn’t really ask me where I wanted to sleep last night and you sort of claimed the bed for yourself.”

Barry snorted and walked over carrying two bowls of ramen. He held one out to Eobard, who hesitantly accepted it.

“I’d assumed we’d trade off. You get the bed one night, I get it the next, that sort of thing. Unless the Speed Force grants mercy on us and provides a second bed, of course,” Barry said, seemingly muttering the last part more to himself.

Eobard had been about to take a mouthful of noodles, but Barry’s phrasing made him pause.

“What do you mean, ‘unless the Speed Force grants mercy on us’?”

Barry froze.

“I just meant…well...I didn’t exactly think sharing the bed was an option,” he said nervously, running a hand through his hair.

“And why, pray tell, not?” Eobard questioned, beginning to get slightly irritable. “Don’t fancy cuddling in bed with me, do you?”

Barry, bless his heart, went as red as his suit.

“No!...I just...that’s not what I...Goddammit Eo, you know I didn’t mean anything like that! I just thought it might be  _ nice _ and better for both of us if we traded off, that’s all!” he shouted.

Eobard frowned and turned back to his soup. 

“I thought I told you not to call me that,” he said, changing the subject.

Eobard knew he’d likely overreacted and been a tad over-dramatic (although admittedly, it had been said that being over-dramatic and overreacting were core aspects of his personality; accusations which he made no effort to deny). Barry had attempted to make a nice gesture and be considerate, and Eobard had properly buggered it up. Still, he couldn’t help but be annoyed by how jumpy Barry sometimes seemed around him. 

“Ugh,” Barry muttered as he downed the rest of his soup and then curled up in the pile of clothes facing away from Eobard. “Goodnight,  _ Eo _ .”

Eobard stared at Barry’s balled-up form for a few seconds, before he too finished his dinner. He collected Barry’s bowl along with his and put the both of them in the sink, before somewhat reluctantly climbing into bed.

He pulled off his shirt and pulled the covers over himself, and lay there for a few moments before switching off the lights.

It was only when Barry’s breath started to even out with sleep that Eobard whispered, “Goodnight, Barry.”

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

Eobard shifted uncomfortably in the bed, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he might be able to go back to sleep and just pretend that his fairly unsettling wet dream had never happened. After a few minutes of awkward tossing and turning, however, Eobard eventually decided to give up and rolled out of bed. 

Being cautious not to wake Barry, he selected a new set of clothes from the cupboard and used his speed to quickly put them on and freshen himself up. He balled up the soiled outfit that he had slept in and threw it in a corner.

Stepping around where Barry lie on the floor, Eobard shuffled over to the duffel bag full of items he had selected from the supply shed. He selected some decent-looking granola for breakfast, then went about boiling water for this morning’s coffee. 

After it was ready several minutes later, Eobard stepped outside. He guessed that it was probably about mid morning, based on where the sun was in the sky. It seems both he and Barry had slept in a bit later this morning. 

Absentmindedly he slipped his hands into his pockets, admiring the view. However to his surprise his hand brushed against something rough and paper. Eobard reached deeper into his pocket and withdrew the small notebook he’d found the strange passage in before. 

He furrowed his brow; he would have sworn that the notebook had not been there only a few minutes ago when he’d put his clothes on. Strange. 

Cautiously Eobard opened up the notebook. The passage he had seen before was still there, carefully written out on the first page.  _ I’ll never be more than an indistinguishable face in an endless crowd _ . He read the words again with a twinge of sadness in his heart.

Sighing, he thumbed through the rest of the notebook, expecting to be blank like it was the day before.

It wasn’t.

Most of the book was still blank, yes, but on the second page, another passage of writing had appeared: 

 

_ Sometimes I wonder if you feel the same way that I do _

_ Some days I’m certain _

_ Others, I’m not so sure _

_ What do I mean to you? Do I mean anything at all? _

_ Am I just a face, am I just a name to you? _

_ Am I just a memory that fades with every passing day? _

_ I want to tell you the truth _

_ But I can’t tell what I don’t know _

_ And I didn’t really know back then, but now I think I do _

_ And I wonder if you wonder too _

 

Eobard shook his head, quickly rereading it a couple time to make sure that he had got it right.  _ Curious and curiouser _ , he thought. This piece was just as cryptic as the last one, but since it was written in the same handwriting as before he assumed the two had the same author. Why had this notebook appeared in his pocket, he wondered, and why was it even in the tower in the first place? What was the purpose of all this? Eobard gripped the notebook tightly and stared off at the horizon, pondering all the questions that were running through his head.

“Whatcha got there?” a voice said from behind him, jumpscaring the shit out of Eobard and causing him to leap about a foot in the air.

“Holy fuck!” he exclaimed, whirling around to face a very confused Barry. “Didn’t anyone tell you that you shouldn’t just sneak up on people?”

“I didn’t sneak up on you, you just weren’t paying attention.”

Eobard scowled and shoved the notebook back into his pocket.

“Whatever,” he mumbled.

However, Barry hadn’t missed his movements and his eyes trailed down to Eobard’s pocket.

“What’s that?” 

“What’s what?” Eobard replied as nonchalantly as he could. Although there wasn’t really anything incriminating in the notebook, for some reason he didn’t feel like sharing it with Barry just yet.

“ _ That _ ,” Barry said, pointing.

“It’s, um, nothing. I’m just...happy to see you!” Eobard exclaimed. 

“ _ What _ ?!?”

_ Shit. _ He’d really put his foot in his mouth this time, hadn’t he? Of the many times his genius intellect had failed him, this was perhaps the most unfortunate.

“I...It...It was just a joke! A joke! Haha, very funny, yeah?” He rapidly backtracked, trying not to dig himself deeper into the hole he had fallen in. 

“I...” Barry stuttered.

Inwardly, Eobard was hitting himself on the head with a frying pan. He  _ really _ needed to stop making innuendos, especially in Barry’s company. 

Suddenly Barry’s eyes widened and he pointed at somewhere over Eobard’s shoulder.

“Look!”

“What?” Eobard said, confused by the sudden change in Barry’s demeanor. He turned around and scanned the horizon for a brief second, not seeing what Barry was pointing at.

“Over there!” Barry exclaimed hurriedly, pushing his way next to Eobard and leaning over the railing. Eobard followed Barry’s line of sight and finally saw what he was pointing at: off in the distance behind several small ridges was a thin black trail of smoke, curling up into the sky.

“Well, well, well, it looks like we’ve got ourselves a fire,” Eobard said.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much nature very hiking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this one took me a while because life is a bitch. I won't bore you with all the details but the short of it is that I moved, the people who bought my house are literal maniacs, I got promoted at work which means a lot of extra responsibility with not a lot of extra pay, etc.  
> Hopefully now that things have sort of calmed down I'll be able to hold to that once a week posting schedule! (Yeah, right.)
> 
> Anyways, here's the latest (extra long!) installment in the Adventures of Eobard and Barry: Camping Edition!!

With a flash of lightning, Barry and Eobard took off running through the trees. Although the thin trail of black smoke had been clearly visible from the balcony of their fire tower, it was significantly more difficult to make out once they were on the ground in the forest. Both of them had decided that it might be best to go check out the source of the smoke. It’s not like they had anything better to do, anyway.

Eobard followed Barry as he ran to the rocky top of a hill to reorient himself. They had passed the lake and the clearing they’d gone to yesterday near the supply shed. Barry scanned the horizon and relocated the trail of smoke. Ironically, the closer they got the more difficult it was to make out. They ran for a little while more, Eobard running just behind Barry (mostly so he could admire Barry’s excellent ass as he ran).

All of a sudden, Barry stopped short, and it was only due to Eobard’s quick reflexes that he didn’t smash right into Barry’s back (again).

“What’s the problem? Why did we stop?” Eobard asked, slightly irritated.

Barry huffed and gestured to the massively deep and wide canyon that lay before them. The walls plunged down hundreds of meters and spanned almost the same distance across. Water trickled out in a cascade of miniature waterfalls from out of the canyon walls. At the very bottom there was a tiny, glowing red stream of lava slowly flowing and shifting colors as it moved against the canyon floor.

“Whoa,” Eobard breathed.

“Yeah. It’s gorgeous, but I don’t really fancy crossing that. I don’t even know if we could.”

“Hmm, well, I don’t think the canyon walls and the waterfalls would be too difficult to run across, but the lava might pose a problem. I’ve personally never tried running over lava before and I don’t know how the friction and heat created by our running would react with a superheated combination of metal and rock. Theoretically I suppose it could be possible with the proper attire built to withstand both extreme heat and friction, but even then it’s more likely that one would just fall in and be suffocated. I suppose that in the unlikely scenario that a speedster fell in and somehow didn’t burn to death or suffocate before the lava cools, they could phase out, but-”

“Eo.”

“-maybe if the lava you needed to get across was small enough, you could try leaping across. Decreasing the surface area of your foot that touching the lava might allow you to cross without burning yourself as you’d be moving too quickly-”

“Eobard.”

“-but you’d probably also have to factor in how hot the lava was and other extraneous conditions-”

“EOBARD!!” Barry exclaimed.

Eobard turned and looked at him in confusion.

“What?”

Barry frowned at him. “You were babbling,” he said.

“But you asked if it was possible to run across lava and I was answering-” Eobard replied, still confused. 

“It was rhetorical.”

“Oh,” Eobard said, his face falling. “I’m sorry.” All too often someone would ask a question and Eobard would answer it in detail, only to realize the question had been rhetorical and the person hadn’t really wanted an answer. His students at the University had hated it, but not as much as his parents had. That wasn’t really out of the ordinary, however; it seemed that his parents had hated almost every single thing about him.

“No, no!” I actually...I actually think it’s kind of adorable, how you get all scientific and professitorial.” 

Eobard’s face went up in flames. Barry thought his rambling was cute? He couldn’t be adorable in any way, he had a supervillain image to maintain! 

Eobard awkwardly cleared his throat. “Anyway,” he said, face still blazing red, “the fire is still on the other side of this canyon, so I don’t think we should worry about it or injure ourselves by trying to get across.”

“Yeah, ok,” Barry agreed.

However, the sun was shining and the day was still young, so neither of them really wanted to head back to the tower just yet.

“What if we take a hike?” Eobard suggested.

Barry scoffed. “A hike? We’re speedsters, Eo, we move faster than the speed of sound. A hike for us would last about a minute and a half, and then what will we do?”

“Well, we won’t be speeding. We’ll just walk,” Eobard replied.

True, just walking was almost torcherous for a speedster, but they had time to kill and Eobard did want to start on his goal of becoming a hiker.

“Huh,” Barry said mulling it over in his head, “That actually sounds like it could be pretty nice. And if we get too bored or tired or thirsty we can easily run back to the firewatch tower.”

After some short deliberation, they decided to follow the canyon away from the tower. Despite the sharp drop off next to them, the path was fairly flat and easy to walk on. Occasionally a fallen tree or boulder would block their path, but for two speedsters any obstacle that they encountered was minimal.

They were both quiet for a while before Barry finally asked, “So what do you do when you’re not trying to kill me?”

Eobard stopped and looked at him.

“What?”

“I mean like, I know your main hobbies are the Flash, physics, and 1970s era music I guess, but other than that, what do you like?” Barry asked. 

“I...well, I like history, I suppose. My main obsession before the Flash was Ancient Rome, and I got a secondary degree in Classics when I was in college. I even taught a couple of lectures about it on the side back when I was a professor of Chronodynamics.”

“Really?” Barry replied interestedly. “I didn’t know you were a professor.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Barry Allen.”

“I guess so,” Barry said in contemplation. “Well, tell me something about Ancient Rome, then.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Anything.”

“Okay,” Eobard said, wracking his brain for a fact Barry would find interesting. “Did you know that the Romans washed their clothes with pee?”

“You’re shitting me,” Barry scoffed, “You totally just made that up.”

“No, it’s completely true! They had these big tubs sitting out in the street that passerby could pee in, and then some slaves would bring them into the launderers when they were full. Then they’d wait until the pee broke down into ammonia, and then they’d wash their clothes with it,” Eobard explained.

“That’s disgusting.”

“Yes, but it’s not like they had a plethora of cleaning products to choose from.”

“Point,” Barry said.

They walked for a little while longer until they came upon a small tributary stream that flowed down into the canyon from the mountains.

“We could try following it back up into the hills,” Barry suggested.

“Sure,” Eobard said with a shrug.

Thus Eobard and Barry followed the stream back in the direction they had originally ran from, walking aside the small trickle of water as it climbed back into the mountains. The peaceful babbling sound was terribly calming; Eobard almost wished the firetower was closer by the stream so he could fall asleep to the sound of it. That would be quite nice, he thought. High up in the trees he could hear a pair of doves cooing to each other. Overall, the whole atmosphere was very lovely.

After a short while, the quiet sounds of the forest were interrupted by the distinctive roar of rushing water. The trees parted slightly and the stream widened out into a small pool. At the far end of the pool was an impressive waterfall crashing down from the cliff face many dozens of meters above.

The whole pond was enclosed on almost all sides by huge, towering walls of rock littered with pine trees and other various plant growing precariously out of crevices. Eobard was sure that they would most likely never have found this place had they not followed the stream as it was so well hidden.

“This is so cool!” Barry exclaimed. “It looks like something out of Jurassic Park or whatever!”

“Jurassic Park was filmed in Hawaii, which is considerably more tropical,” Eobard pointed out.

Barry sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. 

“Ugh. You know what I meant. Why do you have to be so literal all the time?” he complained.

They skirted around the edge of the pond, taking care not to slip on some of the mossier, damper rocks. By now they could feel the mist coming off of the waterfall, which Eobard thought was a blessing after walking for so long in the heat. 

“This would make a great swimming hole,” Barry said, continuing to examine the pond. It was much shallower and clearer than the lake, and probably a lot cleaner too.

Nonetheless, Eobard snorted, never giving up an opportunity to mess with Barry.

“What, was swimming in the lake not up to your standards last time? I’ll admit my striptease was a little lacklustre, but had you actually been paying attention I think you would have enjoyed it more,” he said wryly.

“What!?! No, I..that’s not-” Barry stammered.  _ Jesus Christ _ , Eobard thought. Had Barry always been this flustered and awkward, or was it just this most recent incarnation of him?

Eobard shook his head and grinned.

“I’m just messing with you.”

Deeper in one end of the pool Eobard spotted a streak of movement, and in an instant he flashed over to the closest edge and leaned over to get a better look.

“Hey!” he said excitedly. “There are fish in here!”

Barry flashed over and took a look for himself.

“So there are,” he replied.

“What are these, minnows or something?”

“They look like mostly rainbow trout to me,” Barry said. “Although if you look over there,” he pointed to a spot a little farther away, “there are some minnows there. See, they’re much smaller than the trout. It looks like there are some catfish and crawdads in there too-- I just saw one crawl under a rock there.”

“How do you know so much about fish?” Eobard asked, studying Barry curiously.

Barry’s face fell, and Eobard instantly felt guilty and wondered what he had said wrong (although he had no reason to feel guilty, he told himself. Why should he care about Barry’s feelings? After all, he had spent years coming up with ways to ruin the Scarlet Speedster’s life).

“It was...my dad. He used to take me fishing on weekends sometimes, when mom was busy with work,” Barry said, still staring at the silvery fish dart about in the water.

“Oh,” was all Eobard could say.

They stood there in awkward silence for a while before Eobard finally suggested that they keep going. The cliffs surrounding the pond were too steep to try to climb, so the two of them decided unanimously to just use their speed to run up one of the walls next to the waterfall. At the top they found a larger river that seemed to be the source of the falls. It was quite wide and deep, and had carved an impressive path into the mountainside.

“Shall we follow it?” Barry asked.

“Might as well. We’ve still got some daylight left,” Eobard replied, and once again followed behind Barry.

The river weaved in and out of the trees and curved around the hills and mountains. Its rocky riverbed created huge rapids that sprayed foam in Eobard’s face and roared in his ears, making conversation between him and Barry near impossible, much to his relief. Eobard wasn’t exactly eager to make small talk after he had inadvertently reminded Barry of how he had murdered his mother and put his father in prison (Wow, awkward).

It was only a few minutes later that the trees opened up and the rocky hills flattened out to reveal a lake. Eobard stared incredulously, not believing that they could have actually gone in a circle and were back at  _ the  _ lake until he saw the firewatch tower perched prominently on top of the mountain directly in front of him and Barry. The windows of the tower caught the late afternoon light and made the building gleam and shimmer as if it were on fire itself. The mirror image of the tower and the mountain it stood on appeared in the lake, reversed but just as magnificent. This place, whether it was real or just an illusion, was seemingly gorgeous from every angle and during every time of day.

“Want to head back?” Barry said. “It’s not too far.”

Eobard nodded and before Barry could blink he took off running. The speed force pulsed through his veins and reminded him why he loved being a speedster. The world flying by at a million miles an hour while at the same time standing still; being connected to all of it- the earth, the air, the lightning- it was the greatest and most powerful thing Eobard had ever felt. It was his purpose, he thought. Being part of this bigger thing that was beyond the mind of any human or metahuman. 

Sometimes, Eobard couldn’t even remember what it was like not being a speedster. If he were ever to lose his powers, well, he can imagine that he’d do anything that was necessary to get them back. For what was the Reverse Flash without his speed, and what was Eobard Thawne without the Reverse Flash?

Eobard felt a tremor in the speed force beside him and looked over to see Barry keeping stride with him. His eyes burned gold with the same lightning that wreathed his body and tangled itself in his limbs. 

This was the Flash that Eobard had worshipped- his magnificent, terrible Speed God.

And then.

It was like some sort of magnetic force, pulling and pulling until something snapped together and then he was  _ BarryAllenEobardThawneTheFlashReverseOppositeTheSame  _ and he was they and they were running and they could feel  _ everything. _

They were no longer separate entities but one soul in two bodies striving to be complete. They could remember being a child who had a crush on Iris West and watching their mother die in a streak of lightning and reading about the old Superheroes on a rainy day in 2156 and their first day of work as a CSI at CCPD and fixing a lunar lander with Ray Palmer. They felt joy and hope and pain and anguish and  _ love-- _

As quickly as it began, the feeling abruptly ended and Eobard dropped out of the speed force, slamming into one of the poles holding up the firewatch tower. Gingerly he felt at the throbbing lump on his head and winced at the ringing in his ears. 

“What...what was that?” Barry hissed, laying spread out on the ground beside him holding his head.

“No idea,” Eobard replied as he blinked and shook his head to try to clear the spots from his vision. 

“It’s almost like we were...the same person for a second,” Barry marveled. And that was a rather frightening thought and one that Eobard would rather not think about  _ ever _ . The last thing he needed was Barry knowing his thoughts. 

“I think,” Eobard supplied, eager to change the subject, “that what we both could use right now is a good meal and a full night’s sleep to clear our heads. We’ve been out in the heat for a while, who knows how that could be affecting us.”

Barry looked like he wanted to argue, but reluctantly he stood up and said, “Ok. Whatever you want.”

They zipped upstairs and Barry promptly collapsed onto the bed. Eobard let him, in no mood to argue with Barry after whatever it was that just happened. Instead he got to work assembling some manner of food for dinner. There was some dry pasta and canned tomato sauce in the cupboard, which he figured would be enough to make some decent spaghetti. He took his time boiling the water and cooking the pasta, all while Barry laid motionless on the bed. A quick glance over was enough to confirm that he had, once again, fallen asleep. Eobard shook his head fondly and continued preparing the food. 

By the time the whole meal was done, the sun had disappeared behind the mountains and the sky had begun to grow dark. Still, Eobard figured it was light enough to eat outside. He dragged the chairs outside along with his reclaimed boom box and then quickly assembled a plate of spaghetti for himself and Barry. After examining his setup and finding it to his satisfaction, he stepped inside and shook Barry awake.

“Wha-,” Barry mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Dinner,” Eobard said simply, before stepping back out.

He switched on the boom box and sat down to taste his creation. Not bad, he supposed, perhaps the tomato sauce was a little runny and the pasta was a tad overcooked, but it could have been worse. 

Barry stepped out onto the patio and immediately stopped short.

“Wait, did you do all this?” he asked.

Eobard, whose mouth was full of food, just shrugged.

Barry sat down and took a hesitant bite.

“Hey, this isn’t half bad!” he exclaimed.

They both sat for a while enjoying their food and watching the sunset while the music from the boom box played in the background.

“What’s this one?” Barry asked, referring to the song.

“ _ September _ by Earth, Wind & Fire, released November 18th, 1978,” Eobard answered instantly.

“Wow, you didn’t even have to think about that, did you?”

“It’s a classic. I’m surprised you didn’t recognize it yourself.” 

“The classics were never really my jam, I was a teenager in the 2000s. Panic! At the Disco and Fall Out Boy were more my speed.”

“Oh my god...did you have an emo phase? Tell me you didn’t have an emo phase,” Eobard begged. 

Barry buried his face in his hands and mumbled, “I had an emo phase. I even had the hair and everything.”

“Holy shit, this is gold,” Eobard cackled. “I swear to god, if we ever get out of here I will travel back in time to see prepubescent emo Barry Allen if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Kill me now,” Barry implored.

“No way,” Eobard said with a wicked grin.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which entirely too much time is devoted to a hammock

Eobard woke up to the late afternoon sun shining on his face. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, blearily reorienting himself. He was currently situated in a hammock tied between a pair of trees near the lake.

Barry had found the hammock in the shed several days ago, while Eobard had been out organizing wood and rocks into a fire pit in the clearing and listening to “ _ Heart of Glass _ ” by Blondie on the boombox, which Eobard now regularly carried with him almost everywhere.

“Look what I found!” Barry had exclaimed excitedly, holding up a wadded up ball of fabric for Eobard to see.

“Is it...a tarp?” Eobard couldn’t see why the hell Barry would be so excited over a piece of fabric, but then again, this was Barry he was talking about, and Barry could be weird like that. 

“No! Look!” Barry unfurled his bundle. “It’s a hammock! I always wanted to have one of these as a kid!” 

“Ooookay,” Eobard said, still not really sure what Barry was so excited about. Although, he had to admit that an excited Barry was very cute (so was a flustered Barry, or an angry Barry, or...shit, Eobard just thought any sort of Barry was cute).

“I’m going to set it up,” Barry proclaimed confidently, holding the mess of fabric aloft as if it were some sort of trophy.

“Are you sure you know how to do that?” Eobard asked.

Barry shot him a dirty look. 

“Of course I do. It can’t be that hard.”

“Ok, whatever you say, smart guy,” Eobard shrugged, resolving not to help Barry when he inevitably screwed up.

However, twenty minutes later when Barry was hopelessly tangled in the hammock and it was in no way attached to any sort of tree, Eobard relented and creeped over to the increasingly frustrated scarlet speedster.

“Do you want some help?” he prompted after Barry failed to notice that Eobard was next to him.

“NO!” Barry exclaimed, flailing in the warped mass of strings and fabric. “I’ve got this! I don’t need any help!”

“Barry-”

“No I’m fi-” 

Barry fell over into a bush, legs so tangled he couldn’t stand.

“Okay, maybe I do need some help,” came a voice from within the bush. 

“Just vibrate out of there,” Eobard said in exasperation. “Then we can untangle your hammock thing together.”

There was a string of muffled grunts and swearing and then the sound of molecules vibrating at superspeed before Barry’s head finally popped out of the bush.

“I don’t know how that happened. One minute everything was going perfectly, and the next I was trapped,” Barry said with a slight frown.

“It’s ok. It happens.”

Eobard held out a hand to help Barry up. Barry froze and just stared at his hand for a second, before carefully reaching forward and taking it. Eobard pulled him up, purposefully ignoring the spark of electricity that passed through his fingertips at Barry’s touch.

It only took a few minutes to get the hammock untangled and strung between two trees with the both of them working together. 

Once it was firmly hung up, Barry wasted no time leaping into his new hammock. Or he tried to, at least. 

Barry instead found himself once again deposited on the ground, looking confused.

“Did we miss something? Because clearly we didn't set this up right,” he questioned.

“No, I'm pretty sure we didn't make any mistakes.”

“But then why did it flip me over? I thought-”

“Barry, that's how hammocks work. You have to get into them  _ slowly _ and  _ carefully. _ ” Eobard said with a chuckle.

“I...well…that's completely stupid!” Barry exclaimed indignantly. Frowning, he picked himself up off the ground and tried to get into the hammock again, but with the same result as before.

“Aggghh! This is so dumb! I don't want this fucking thing anymore!” Barry yelled, kicking the hammock.

Eobard gaped at him.

“Are...are you serious right now? After all it took to set it up, you don’t want the hammock anymore?”

“No! I don’t! Because. Who. Makes,” Barry said between kicks, “A. Bed. You. Can’t. Even. GET. INTO!!”

Eobard just looked on, bemused. 

“Such a drama queen,” he muttered.

Barry’s head whipped around at a speed that should have been impossible even for him. “Look who’s talking!” he snapped.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?”

“YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHAT IT MEANS, EOBARD!”

“WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME??” Eobard screamed.

“I DON’T KNOW!” Barry screamed back. “BUT IT’S DEFINITELY YOUR FAULT!”

And that was how that conversation had ended. They didn’t talk to each other again until the next morning, more due to the fact that neither wanted to be the one that broke the silence rather than any real anger. 

However, Barry stood by what he had said the day before and refused to even look at the hammock. When Eobard had noticed this, he’d just rolled his eyes and slid into the hammock himself, purposefully making it look as easy as possible. His face lit up with a smirk when he heard an annoyed huff from Barry’s direction. God, it was just too easy sometimes.

Since then Eobard had officially claimed the hammock as his personal relaxation spot, choosing to sunbathe while Barry did whatever the heck it was that he did all day. For the first couple days Barry had attempted kayaking, until he somehow managed to sink all six kayaks that had been stored away in the supply shed. Eobard figured he was better off not even trying to understand how that was possible. 

Today, Barry was perched in a tree with a pair of binoculars, trying his hand at birdwatching with the aid of a guidebook he’d collected from the tower. He’d been at it for several hours already, but with little success if his barely muffled sighs of frustration were anything to go by. Eobard had left him to it, opting to take a nap instead.

He sat up, the sun still shining harshly in his face, figuring it was probably time to head back to the tower. He was getting pretty hungry, after all. However, the sun was abruptly eclipsed by a tall figure, startling Eobard enough to make him fall out of the hammock and land in the dirt. Barry stood over him, still holding his birdwatching gear.

“Aghh! Don’t you know it’s not nice to creep up on people!” Eobard yelled, brushing himself off.

Barry shrugged. “You’re one to talk. Anyways, I’m bored.”

“Yeah, and what do you want me to do about it?” he griped.

“I don’t know. Although,” Barry met his eyes seriously, “I did find some lube in the shed when I was taking out the kayaks.”

Eobard choked, gaping at Barry in shock.

“W...what?” he stuttered.

It was only a few seconds later that Barry broke out in hysterics.

“Oh...my...god,” he wheezed. “Your face...that was priceless!”

“You were kidding?”

“You’re not the only one who can make dirty jokes.”

“Ah. Yes. Right,” Eobard stuttered, trying to cover up his unease. If Barry only knew that most of the time, Eobard was only half joking.

“Anyway,” Barry said, pulling himself back together, “Shall we head back?”

Eobard nodded and together they zipped back to the tower, darting back and forth between the trees and disturbing the underbrush until they arrived at the tower’s base and ran up the stairs.

Inside, Eobard set to rummaging around in their food store again, trying to find something they hadn’t had before. He was getting a little tired of canned chicken noodle soup, and would really rather not have it again if he didn’t have to. 

“Hey, that’s weird,” Barry said from behind him.

“What is?” Eobard asked, without bothering to turn around.

“There’s a record of the fire in here.” 

“What do you mean?” Eobard stopped and turned over to where Barry stood examining the collection of books on the shelves above the desk. Barry must have been looking around while putting his birdwatching book back. On the desk Barry had open the old fire log Eobard had seen on the first day, but Eobard clearly remembered that when he had flipped through the book it had been blank. Now, a few entries appeared to be filled out. Narrowing his eyes, he focused in on the neat, oddly familiar writing:

 

_ -Day 6: Spotted a trail of smoke to the Southwest. Attempted to get a closer look, but was hindered by large canyon. Still deliberating on whether to attempt finding a crossing point or constructing a bridge, if possible. _

_ -Day 8: Fire still present to the Southwest. No significant change, and no sightings of my so-called companion either. Haven’t seen him for several days, which doesn’t bode well for me. _

_ -Day 9: No change in fire status. No sign of  _ him _ either. _

 

“Did you write this?” Barry asked.

“No, I didn’t. The last time I looked at this book it was empty.”

“Well, who wrote it then? It even shows the right day that we first saw the fire. It’s not like it could have just appeared,” Barry reasoned.

_ It’s not like it could have just appeared… _

“Wait!” Eobard exclaimed, digging around in his pocket for the mysterious notebook he’d found before. “This notebook...at first I didn’t even notice it, but then it started just showing up randomly, and every time it did, there would be something new written in it.”

He pulled it out to show Barry. 

“Hey, so that’s what you had in your hand before,” Barry said, flipping through and speed-reading the entries.

“Wow, these are right in the feels, aren’t they? Are you sure you didn’t--” he stopped short. “Wait a second,” he said frantically, “this last one is different. It’s in my handwriting!”

“Are you serious?” Eobard asked, taking the notebook from Barry. “Last time I checked there wasn’t even a third entry.” He quickly scanned the page, and sure enough a new passage was written in messy and haphazard penmanship:

 

_ If I am God, then you are my Devil. If I am the Devil, then you are my God. We can’t exist without the other, it seems. It only occured to me after you were gone that I didn’t know who I was anymore. What was I supposed to be? Why was I doing all this? I was living what I thought to be my best, perfect life, but where was the fire? Where was the spice? It didn’t take me long to realize I was only going through the motions, although not long after that did I find myself destroyed completely. That hurt, bad, and stole the last fragments of sanity from my mind, but it wasn’t really the same. Nobody could destroy me like you could. You were the only one who ever really got it, but you already knew that, didn’t you? _

 

“Are you sure this is your handwriting?” Eobard grilled, staring at Barry sharply. 

“Yes. No. I mean it’s messier than how I normally write, and I definitely didn’t write this, but that’s my handwriting, yeah,” Barry admitted.

Suddenly, Eobard knew why the writing in the record book was familiar.

“And the writing in the log book is mine,” he surmised, “And you’re right, it’s like it looks like my penmanship, but at the same time also not, if that makes any sense.”

“This whole place is so fucking weird, man,” Barry said, mostly under his breath. 

Eobard had to agree with him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, yes. Hello. I'm going to put any notes at the end from now on, because I think I like that better. Anyways, I could give you the whole long list of excuses as to why this has been sitting in my Google Drive for weeks, but I doubt it would hold much interest for you or that you really care. I'm not entirely thrilled with this chapter, but I'm just gonna put it out there anyways. As compensation for it taking SO DAMN LONG for this to come out, you can expect another chapter within the next few days. :^)  
> As usual, thanks for reading and commenting and all those lovely things. I can't tell you how much it means to me.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's just fluff

Eager to forget the whole debacle with the strange notebook entries, Barry had offered to make dinner that night, which unfortunately left Eobard with nothing to do until the meal was ready. At least until he remembered that he had forgot the boom box back down by the lake. He decided that he probably had enough time to go run and get it, and he certainly didn’t want to just leave it there in case it rained. Those old boom boxes were built pretty sturdy, but Eobard didn’t fancy testing their only one against water damage.

He was going to just leave, but on second thought popped his head inside the door of the tower and said, “I’m going to go back and get the boombox. Anything you need from the shed, Barry?”

Barry looked up from the pot of water he was diligently trying to get to boil.

“Yeah, actually. If you see any canned peas, can you grab those? Also, we’re almost out of condensed milk.”

“Milk and peas, got it. Anything else?”

Barry shook his head.

“Ok,” Eobard said, before speeding away.

Once in the shed, Eobard examined the shelves, searching for where the canned vegetables were stored away. He caught sight of a distinctive cylindrical silhouette on a shelf near the bottom and kneeled down to check.  Picking up a can that read “PICKLED ASPARAGUS AND ARTICHOKE HEARTS,” he wrinkled his nose. Gross. But he guessed it meant he was in the right place, though. 

Eobard examined a few dozen more cans which contained vegetables of every variety, all except peas.

“What does he even want the stupid peas for anyways?” Eobard muttered to himself. He went to look on the other half of the shelf only to find it blocked by an unmarked cardboard box wedged onto the shelf even though the box was clearly too big to fit. Crouching down even further, Eobard spotted an enclave of cans stuck behind the box, including one that boldly read “CANNED PEAS.” He sighed. Looks like he’d have to move the box.

It took a fair amount of shoving, pulling, and cursing, but finally the box came loose, causing both it and Eobard to crash backwards. Luckily Eobard managed to catch himself and not knock anything over; he didn’t even want to think about having to clean up all sorts of ruined food supplies and camping gear. 

He crawled back over to grab the all-important can of peas before looking over to examine the box that had given him so much trouble. Opening it up, Eobard was surprised to find a variety of candles of all shapes and sizes. That wasn’t something he would expect to find in a supply shed so near a firewatch tower; weren’t candles something of a fire hazard, especially out in the woods? 

However, also packed in with the candles was a tightly wound string of twinkle lights which immediately caught Eobard’s attention. These were the kind that he remembered putting up on a Christmas tree once or twice, on the few occasions when his parents had decided that it would be a good “family bonding experience” to decorate for the holidays together. Even in the 22nd century, they’d still had Christmas trees and ornaments and lights and all that. Eobard supposed some forms of commercialism never went out of style. 

After a moment of hesitation, Eobard picked up the twinkle lights and set them off to the side with the peas. Remembering that Barry had also asked for condensed milk, Eobard quickly located it on the shelf above, then grabbed his collection of items and left the shed. 

The boombox was right where he had remembered leaving it near the infamous hammock. Although there were no signs of rain or clouds in the evening sky, Eobard was still glad he had remembered to come back and get the boombox. He pressed play on the next song on the mixtape and smiled, an idea suddenly beginning to form in his head. Eobard switched the boom box back off and sped back to the tower with his haul.

Back at the tower, Eobard gave Barry his peas and condensed milk before zipping back out to the deck of the tower. It was only the work of a few minutes to find a hammer and some nails and to hang the twinkle lights from the eaves of the tower. Standing back to admire his work, Eobard felt satisfied and set out to pull the chairs and table from inside out onto the deck.

“What are you up to?” Barry asked as Eobard dragged the table out the door.

“You’ll see,” was all the response he got.

Shaking his head, Barry turned back to his cooking. 

It was only a few minutes later that Barry stepped out with plates for the two of them before stopping short.

“Whoa,” he breathed. 

“Well, what do you think?” Eobard asked nervously.

The whole deck seemed to glow softly from the twinkle lights hanging from the eaves. Eobard had set up the two chairs and table directly underneath, complete with makeshift place settings made out of things Eobard had found in the tower- a pair of bandanas for placemats, mismatched forks and knives pilfered from the kitchen area, neatly folded dishtowels for napkins. In the background Barry could hear the soft strains of the boom box filling the night air. It was hardly a polished or elegant setup, but somehow it was still perfect. 

“Why did you do all this?” Barry asked, carefully setting down the plates.

Eobard shrugged noncommittedly.

“I don’t know. I just felt like it, I suppose.”

“Well, I think it’s lovely,” Barry said, with a smile that made Eobard feel like he was the only person in the world. He would do anything for that smile. 

“I know it doesn’t compare with what you did, but I did make fettuccine alfredo with peas for dinner,” Barry offered, gesturing at the plates, “It’s like, the one thing I can make without massively screwing up.”

“Looks good,” Eobard commented, offering Barry a chair. Barry gladly took it and they both sat down and began to eat.

And although Eobard had had some doubts about Barry’s actual cooking ability, the dinner didn’t just look good; it tasted excellent too. 

“I didn’t know you could cook,” Eobard said tentatively, breaking the silence.

“I didn’t know you could cook, either. Before coming here at least,” Barry shrugged. “I don’t know. I feel like I’ve learned a lot about you lately.”

Eobard quirked an eyebrow. “Is that so? Anything interesting?”

Barry laughed.

“Nothing so grandiose as what you seem to be implying. Just like, little stuff, you know. Like, I never would have guessed you knew how to set up a hammock. Or that you’re an 80s music nerd. Or that you like to sleep curled up in a ball and usually forget to take off your shoes before going to bed. Stuff I never would have known about you normally.”

Eobard felt his face heat up the slightest bit. Barry didn’t seem to notice though, and if he did, he didn’t say anything. 

“You’re a lot nicer than you let on, too. And you love making dirty jokes, which I never would have expected,” Barry continued, earnest as ever. “I guess it just shows that I don’t know you as well as I thought I did.”

Eobard nodded. “Well, for what it’s worth, I don’t think I know you quite as well as I thought I did either,” he admitted.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Barry said, holding up his hands. “Hold it right there, am I actually witnessing this? Is Eobard Thawne really admitting he doesn’t know everything?” he asked, grinning wildly.

“I never purported to knowing everything,” Eobard retorted loftily. 

“Wow. ‘Purported?’ Really?” Barry said between giggles.

Eobard narrowed his eyes. “I’ll have you know ‘purported’ is a perfectly good word, Mr. Allen.”

“Yeah, but nobody except you uses it.”

“Let’s agree to disagree.”

“Doesn’t that sum up our whole relationship?”

“You’re not wrong,” Eobard said.

They both sat there in silence for a moment, just enjoying the atmosphere. 

“Hey,” Barry said, cocking his head to the side to better listen to the music, “I think I know this one. The Bee Gees, right?”

“ _ Night Fever _ by the Bee Gees, yes. One of my favorites,” Eobard admitted. 

“Well then,” Barry said, pushing back from the table and standing up. “Care to dance with me, Eo?”

“...dance...with you?” Eobard repeated, in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Barry said nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just suggested...that. He swayed his hips back and forth to the beat and raised his arms up above his head. “Live a little.”

“I...I don’t,” Eobard stammered, blushing deeply. “I can’t dance.”

Barry laughed, somehow managing to make even that effortlessly beautiful. “Wow, twice in one night you admit your faults? Come on now, you’re  _ Eobard Thawne _ . A badass, time-travelling genius who can do anything he sets his mind to. You can dance if you try, I promise,” he said offering a hand out to Eobard.

And after that, how could Eobard not take his hand?

He awkwardly swayed next to Barry, watching the other twirl around in a way that made Eobard dizzy even looking at it. 

“Did I tell you,” Barry said dreamily, closing his eyes and losing himself in the beat, “that when I was a kid, I took ballet lessons? My dad, he had signed me up for a baseball camp at the rec center during the summer.”

He snorted. “He was so proud, he took me out and bought me a new catcher’s mitt and training bat, calling me ‘slugger’ the whole time. Anyways, he drops me off at the first day of camp at the rec center and then heads off to work. Except, the camp wasn’t  _ at _ the rec center anymore. They had changed the location to the elementary school last minute, but my dad didn’t realize. So I’m this little kid, probably about six or seven, wandering around the rec center by myself with absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to do. Eventually I find my way into this room where the ballet camp is practicing, who, mind you, are all girls. The teacher was this old lady, who I had seen around and she totally scared the shit out of me. So when she notices me standing there, she asks me if I’m there for the class, and because I’m lost and terrified, I say yes.” 

Barry laughed softly, his gentle peales mixing with the chords of the song.

_ Here I am, Prayin' for this moment to last, Livin' on the music so fine… _

“Did you really?” Eobard asked. They had drifted closer together, so now their shoulders would brush against each other as they rocked back and forth to the beat.

“Yeah. I didn’t even really realize what I had done until the teacher pushed me into the group with the others and made me start warming up with them, and that day I learned my first ballet steps. And then that afternoon when my dad picks me up and asks me how baseball camp was, for some reason I decide not to tell him about the location change. So the next day when he drops me off again, I go back to the ballet class, and the next day after that too. And that was that,” Barry recounted.

He looked so beautiful like this, Eobard thought. The glow from the twinkle lights reflected off his hair and cast dramatic shadows on his face, and when he moved it looks like his whole body was vibrating, but not in the harsh way it would if he were using his speed. This was gentler, warmer. Barry’s eyes were alight as he recalled the memories from his childhood.

“Did your dad ever find out?” 

Barry laughs again. 

“Yeah, it became pretty obvious when he showed up for the first game and the coach had no idea who I was. I thought he was going to be so angry after I told him the truth, but all he did was dry my tears, buy me an ice cream, and then take me to the dance store to get ballet shoes.”

Eobard smiled sadly. 

“He sounds like a good father.”

“He was,” Barry said simply. 

They swayed to the music a little longer as it played its final notes, before flipping over to the next song. 

“Oh! I know this one too!” Barry said, his face lighting up.

“I should hope so. ABBA are legendary, and  _ Dancing Queen _ is one of their biggest hits.”

_ Ooh, You can dance, You can jive, Having the time of your life… _

Barry laughed, and did his best disco dancing. It was so ridiculous that Eobard couldn’t help but join in, causing Barry to immediately up the ante and literally do the hustle. Perfectly. Of course. Giggling uncontrollably, Eobard tried his best to copy Barry’s steps. 

“See, you’ve got it!” Barry encouraged.

It seems he spoke too soon, though, as Eobard instantly tripped over his own feet, falling right into Barry’s arms. Barry, to his credit, didn’t waste any time segueing Eobard’s gracelessness into a spin, twirling him around like some sort of fair maiden. Their fingers entwined, Barry led him a dance, and their eyes met. 

_ You are the dancing queen, Young and sweet, Only seventeen… _

Eobard’s eyes drifted to Barry’s lips, so perfect and expressive. How much he had fantasized about those lips, and here they were mere inches from his…

And they were moving, too. Barry was singing along to the song, and oh, how had Eobard never noticed what a lovely singing voice he had? Glancing back up, Eobard saw that Barry hadn’t broken his gaze. It might have just been his imagination, but it was almost as if Barry was singing the song to him.

_ Ooh, see that girl, Watch that scene, Dig in the dancing queen… _

The feeling of sparks skittered across his skin, bringing with it the beautiful completeness that only the speed force could bring. And it was like Barry Allen was there with him, not just in front of him but inside his veins and in his soul and the only coherent thought Eobard could form was  _ love _ .

_ I love him _ , Eobard thought, feeling like his heart was going to pound through his chest.  _ I mean, I’ve worshiped him, I’ve hated him, I’ve lusted after him but... I forgot just how much I’m in love with him. _

The moment seemed to last an eternity, yet also no time at all. 

The song ended, and Barry let him go.

“See, you can dance,” he said reassuringly, flashing that smile again.

“I guess you were right,” Eobard said, standing there with a grin plastered on his face, but it was just a facade. His mind was still racing with those wretched wayward thoughts.

_ I love him so much, but he’ll never feel the same way. He could never love someone like me _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next one were supposed to be one chapter, but it got too long and I figured it was better to have two slightly shorter chapters similar to the length of all the others rather than one inexplicably huge chapter just thrown in there in the middle.  
> Yeah, anyways, more fluff next chapter, but also a major dose of angst. Like, MAJOR.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay folks, this is the chapter where all those intense warnings (Underage, implied/referenced rape or non-con) come into play. However, like it says in the tags, the non-con is NOT between Eobard and Barry.  
> Eobard talks about parts of his backstory in this chapter, which includes the aforementioned things. I understand some readers may not agree with my decision to have this be part of Eobard's backstory, and that, of course, is your right as a reader. However, I don't believe that just because it is an uncomfortable addition that it is not worth talking about or including. I have never seen Eobard as a character that has a "comfortable" backstory. He has some serious issues, and in order to explore his character accurately I feel those need to be addressed. And I'm ABSOLUTELY not saying that "Oh, Eo had a tragic past therefore he should be excused from his crimes and they weren't really his fault." That is by no means my intention, nor my assumption. Although this is just a silly fanfiction on the internet, I still think it's important to talk about things like sexual assault seriously and recognize that its a real, legitimate problem.  
> I know I'm rambling now, but I really don't want to trivialize this. Believe me, this is just as uncomfortable for me as it is for you. But more fics need to recognize that non-con has real effects on people and the fact that it can impact them for years to come.

In light of his painful realization, Eobard was quick to do what he did best: cover up his feelings and pretend it was just a fluke.

“I think I’m tired now. Wanna help me take in the dishes?” he asked, separating himself from Barry’s arms.

“Sure,” Barry said, furrowing his brow. He looked like he didn’t exactly believe Eobard, but he also didn’t say anything otherwise. Together the two of them made quick work of washing the dishes and cleaning up the cooking supplies, which was sorely needed as Barry had somehow managed to get dried pasta literally everywhere in the firetower.

“I just don’t understand,” Eobard grumbled, scrubbing a pan. “How the  _ fuck _ did you manage to get pasta in the bed? It’s on the other side of the room. All you had to do was pour the pasta from the box into the pot.”

“Maybe it teleported?” Barry suggested.

“What, like some sort of metahuman pasta? That’s the last thing the world needs, let me tell you.”

Barry snorted. “How would that even work? Mutant wheat exposed to dark energy from a particle accelerator explosion? Bitten by a radioactive grasshopper? Grown in a vat of toxic waste?”

“I don’t want to think about it. If we ever run into some meta-wheat, I’ll be sure to let you have dibs on fighting it.”

“Sure thing,” Barry laughed, putting away the last of the plates. 

Eobard sat down on the bed and was about to call it a night until Barry stopped him.

“Hey, wait a minute- I’ve been wanting to try something.”

And oh, that phrase was not good for Eobard’s imagination. Hell, half his fantasies involving the original Flash started with that phrase.

“Um, ah, sure, what did you have in mind?” he stammered. Barry gave him a strange look. 

“I just found this book on stars and constellations, and I was wondering if you wanted to go up on the roof and look at them with me.”

That was not what Eobard had expected at all, but it did kind of sound like fun.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll get a blanket.” he muttered, trying to throw off the rest of his wayward thoughts. 

The two of them climbed up on the roof a laid out the blankets across the surface. The roof was slightly slanted, but not enough so that they would slide off. Barry laid down, clutching his astronomy book close to his chest. 

“Okay, the last time I looked at constellations I was like, 8, so you might have to help me out here,” he said, opening the book and thumbing through it.

Eobard chuckled and laid down next to him. 

“I’m afraid I probably won’t be much assistance. Where I’m from the sky is much too polluted to see the stars,” Eobard said. 

“That’s sad.”

“Yeah,” Eobard sighed. “Yeah, it is.”

In the pale moonlight, Eobard could just barely make out the star charts illustrated on the pages of Barry’s book. 

“That there,” Barry said, squinting his eyes and pointing to a star cluster almost directly above them, “is the Little Dipper. At least I can recognize that one.”

“Mmm. It’s otherwise known as Ursa Minor, which translates to “little bear,” Eobard added. 

“It says here that the star on the very end of the “handle” is called Polaris, which sounds like a very cool superhero name.”

“Aw, what’s wrong with “Flash?” You’re not going to go changing it on me, are you? Because if you change your name then I have to too, and ‘Reverse’ doesn’t work very well with much else.” Eobard teased.

“No, no, I like my name. Although I have been told that it, and I quote, ‘makes me sound like someone who’s only superpower is jumping out of an alley in a trench coat.’” 

“Really? Now you have to tell me whoever said that to you so I can go knock some sense into them, because the only one that’s allowed to insult you is me.”

And Eobard couldn’t see very well in this light, so it may have just been a trick of the light, but it almost looked like Barry was blushing. 

“Shut it, you,” Barry scolded. He held up his book to study it again. 

“Hey, see that cluster of stars all the way over there, near those trees? Apparently that one is called Sagittarius. It’s supposed to be a centaur or something.”

“It’s Latin name means ‘archer,’ so I suppose you could just as well call it ‘Oliver Queen,’” Eobard joked. 

“Oh! Look at this one!” Barry said, pointing to another point in the sky. “See those four stars in a line and the three across? That one’s Cygnus, the swan. And the one next to it is Draco,” he murmured, tracing the stars with his finger. 

Barry let out a small laugh. “Iris used to always tease me because I said that my favorite Harry Potter character was Draco Malfoy. She said that I probably just liked him because I thought Tom Felton was cute.”

Eobard felt his heart speed up the smallest bit inside his chest. He’d never heard Barry admit that he liked the way another man looked before, and in spite of himself Eobard’s mind ran wild with the possibilities that this simple, casual admission contained. 

“My favorite was Tom Riddle,” Eobard whispered. 

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me. Voldemort  _ would _ be who you’d pick.”

Eobard frowned. “No, no,  _ Tom Riddle _ . The boy who existed before he became Voldemort.”

“Why?” Barry asked, curious.

“Lots of reasons, I guess. He was smart, which I admired, and he didn’t hesitate to do things differently even though everyone told him he couldn’t. He rose from nothing to be everything.”

“Yeah, but wasn’t he, you know, evil and stuff? The magical equivalent of Hitler and all that?”

“Not at first,” Eobard murmured. “Nobody is born evil. It’s the world that makes us this way.”

“So you’re saying it wasn’t his fault? He wasn’t truly responsible for all the destruction he caused? All the lives he ruined?” Barry pressed.

“No, he was… I’m just saying that he wasn’t born villainous. He may have done some terrible things, and he should definitely be held accountable for that, but maybe if things had happened differently, if he hadn’t felt like the world was so against him, maybe he wouldn’t have turned out that way,” Eobard explained. 

“You know,” Barry said quietly, “Somehow I don’t think we’re talking about Tom Riddle anymore.”

Eobard didn’t answer him. He laid his head back on the blankets and closed his eyes. The cool night wind ghosted over his skin, ruffling his shirt and his hair. The trees rustled gently in the waves of the breeze, ebbing and flowing. Crickets chirped in unison in the hills and valleys all around them and occasionally Eobard could hear the hooting of an owl off in the distance. 

“Why do you hate me, Thawne?” Barry whispered eventually, bringing him out of his reverie.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Eobard sighed, opening his eyes and sitting up.

“No,” Barry said, straightening up to look at him. “No, it does matter. It matters because I want to know. It matters because I care, Eobard.”

“Sure you do.”

“I’m serious. If we’re going to be stuck here in this...this fucking speed-force purgatory together, I want to know the truth about you. I know you were a fan of mine...I know you wanted to be the Flash, and you learned that you were destined to be my enemy. But that doesn’t explain why you hate me so much.”

Barry narrowed his eyes, causing his brow to furrow and those little wrinkles around his eyes that Eobard loved so much to appear. It was an expression he’d seen on Barry’s face many times before, when he’d be working on a particularly difficult problem or trying to piece together clues for his latest case. 

“Do you really want me to tell you my whole tragic backstory?” Eobard asked, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice but failing miserably.

“Yes, if you tell the truth.”

Eobard sighed. Barry clearly wasn’t going to give this up. He lay back against the blankets and stared up at the starry expanse of the night sky that was spread out before them.

“Fine. If it’s what you really want,” he said.

“It is,” Barry said softly, and Eobard felt him lay back down next to him, not close enough to touch but near enough that he could feel the warmth of Barry’s body heat in the crisp nighttime air.

“I was born on January 9 in 2151,” he began, closing his eyes again, “Although “born” is probably a bit of a misnomer. My parents had enough money to afford the latest in genetic engineering treatments, so I was technically grown in a lab. Every part of my DNA, well, the controllable parts at least, was picked specifically by my parents, from the color of my hair to my IQ. I was engineered to be  _ perfect _ ,” Eobard recalled bitterly. 

“However, genetic modification, even in my time, is far from an infallible science. As I became a child, it became apparent that I still suffered from a few... _ undesirable _ characteristics, at least in my parents opinion. I lacked the social aptitude and extroverted nature that was expected of a Thawne. I would stay in my room and read anything and everything, from the classics to textbooks on botany.  I also had the tendency to get lost in my head, imagining and daydreaming. My parents thought that the best way to remedy this and teach me some responsibility was to give me a sibling. Thus, along came  _ Robern _ ,” he spit, voice full of venom and hatred, even after all this time. Barry shifted a little on the blankets, but remained silent.

“He was everything I wasn’t,” Eobard continued, “Charming, social, athletic, loved by everyone who laid eyes on him. My parents quickly forgot about my social inadequacies in light of Robern’s appeal, even as a baby. He was the golden child, the chosen one, but that was fine with me as long as it meant that my parents would leave me in peace. It was about this time that I first learned about the Flash.” He paused, catching his breath. 

“I first read about him in a book about important events of the twenty first century. He had barely a paragraph dedicated to him, but I was enraptured from the first mention. A man with lightning in his veins, watching over his city like a guardian angel. I simply had to know more. It wasn’t long before I’d read every book that even mentioned his name, and my walls were plastered with every posters and every piece of memorabilia that I could get my hands on.” Eobard chuckled a bit.

“I suppose it was very easy for me to get obsessed; I didn’t really have any friends to keep me company and my heightened intelligence meant school was fairly simple but very uninteresting. The only other subject that really held my interest was quantum physics, so when I learned that not only did the Flash have the ability to run at impossible speeds but was also capable of travelling through time, it was only a matter of time before I combined my interests and began researching a way to recreate the Flash’s speed. I believed this was my future, my destiny. I would never be Robern, and my parents would never love me like they loved him, but I could be even greater. After all, what greater glory is there than that of a superhero?”

“My research became my life. I graduated high school early and studied chromodynamics at Central City University, spending hours in the lab before running back over to the Flash Museum to check if there was any vital piece of evidence that I’d missed. If I had been reclusive before, it was nothing compared to the hours I spent poring over documents theorizing about the existence of the Speed Force in the archives. I was sixteen.” 

Eobard paused, glancing over at Barry for a moment. He still hadn’t moved and was gazing up at the sky. Eobard bit his lip, trying to determine how to continue. Barry noticed his pause, and shifted his body so he could look at Thawne better. 

“I’m still listening,” he said softly. Eobard met his eyes for a brief moment, before shifting back to look at the stars.

“This is when things get a little more...complicated,” Eobard began again, voice quieter than it had been before. He didn’t really want to continue; he’d never shared this much about himself before to anyone, let alone his nemesis, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He’d locked these words up for so long in his head that now that he had begun to voice them, they began to pour out.

“Robern was fifteen, and for all he could charm everyone around him, he had a temper that he barely contained. He’d been roughhousing with me for years, nothing too extreme. I’d have bruises sometimes, but I didn’t think much of it. Just normal fights between siblings, I’d thought. I could avoid him most of the time anyways, because I was in the library or at the labs so often. But everything changed once my parents noticed how much more time I was spending alone after discovering the Flash. They were reminded of the reason they’d had Robern in the first place, to make me more sociable as was fitting for a Thawne. They began insisting that he keep me company and made us go to “social bonding” sessions in an attempt to strengthen our relationship. Robern...he resented me for this, perhaps even more than I resented him. I was stealing time away from his perfect, happy life and so he  _ punished _ me. He would corner me in my room and make me experience the full fury of his superior athleticism.  I was only a few weeks from turning seventeen the first time he forced himself upon me,” Eobard said, monotonously. 

Barry, however, let out a soft gasp of disbelief. 

“Your brother...raped you?” he whispered, eyes wide. Eobard didn’t answer. He felt almost numb, now that these words were falling out of his mouth.

“It had come out in one of our “bonding sessions” that I was attracted to men. I’d known for a while, and while there wasn’t a taboo against homosexuality in the 22nd century, Robern thought me weak for not being more “out” about it. He seemed to think that maybe if I embraced my sexuality I’d finally be able to get a partner and thus get our parents to stop nagging him to spend time with me.”

Eobard shifted on the blankets, deliberately not meeting Barry’s eyes. 

“There wasn’t anything I could do, since my parents basically worshipped the ground Robern walked on, and I couldn’t tell anyone else because it would eventually get back to my family and they would destroy me for “tarnishing” the family name. Robern made me feel like it was my fault, and I believed him. I…didn’t have anyone to go to. I was completely and utterly alone.

“The Flash was my only refuge. He was my hero, my light, and quite honestly, my reason for living. I thought,” he clenched his teeth and fisted the blankets, “that if I only became like  _ him _ , all of my unhappiness would finally end. My family would finally see that I was worth something, that I wasn’t a failure.”

Eobard could tell that Barry was uncomfortable, but he continued. Barry had asked him for the real story, after all.

“I continued my research into the speed force as a grad student. I was making progress; I was so close to cracking the mystery of the speed force. After I graduated I became the youngest professor in the history of Central City University. It still wasn't enough, I wasn't Robern. He went to an Ivy League school, naturally, and had the most extravagant party for his graduation. I came, mostly because I had to, but also because I hoped that maybe things had changed, that perhaps age had changed him,” Eobard laughed darkly. “I was wrong. He cornered me and took me harder than ever before, hand shoved in my mouth so I couldn't scream. That was the breaking point-- well, one of them at least.” 

He clenched his fists. “I spent even more time in the lab, reading and rereading every book about the Flash in existence. And then, finally I did it. I became a speedster. I had set up an experiment that replicated the accident that created you. I meant to test it thoroughly, on rats and the like, but something went wrong. It just so happens that there was a power surge the night that I finished setting it up, and the whole thing blew up in my face. Literally.”

Barry snorted softly, causing Eobard to smile the smallest bit, without even really knowing why.

“I don’t know if they ever figured out what caused that power surge, but by the time the dust cleared I was in a coma. Nine months, naturally. My family only came to visit me once, or so I’m told. Anyway, when I woke up, I was reborn.”

He let out a sigh.

“It was...everything. All my life, I felt like I had been destined to be  _ more _ . And then, that first time connecting to the speed force, I knew it to be true. There were no words capable of describing how it felt, and even trying felt like an insult to what it was. I suppose, of all people, you’d understand,” Eobard said, glancing over at Barry. He was staring up at the sky, lost in thought.

“Yeah,” Barry whispered quietly. “Yeah.”

“Well, once I got my speed, I thought it natural to step up as the Flash of the 22nd century. We didn’t have much in the means of superheroes, I don’t think the world really recovered after metahumans were made illegal for a while during the mid-21st century.”

Barry frowned. “Wait, metahumans were made illegal? What...never mind. That’s not the point. Please continue,” he said.

Eobard took a deep breath and began again. 

“The thing you need to understand is that life in my time is very regulated, very controlled, in that it’s very rare for accidents like fires and oil spills or crimes like bank robberies and muggings to happen. It’s almost unheard of. Therefore it was nearly impossible for a newbie superhero to find anyone to save. So in lieu of real accidents...I created them. My rationale was that if I engineered a few robberies here and there, saved some people from burning buildings once and awhile, soon enough people would see me as a hero and start calling me to help with the real tragedies. Flawed logic, I know, and not enough reason to put people in danger, but it’s what I did.”

Eobard studied Barry’s face for a moment, trying to discern his thoughts. Barry still looked like he was lost in thought.

“This…” he hesitated, “This is the part where you come in. Or the other you, I guess. It was a few months after I had deemed myself the Flash of the 22nd century. I’ll never forget that day- April 25th, 2177. I didn’t have any classes to teach that day, so I was just sitting around in my office grading papers when it came over the news- there had been a big explosion in downtown Central City. Huge energy fluctuations, electronics were going haywire. So of course I suit up and run down there, but when I get there….there  _ HE  _ is. I could barely believe my eyes. I thought for sure I was dreaming. After all, what were the chances that the one person I had so desperately wanted to meet, that I had idolized and dreamed about, was standing in front of me? 

“As it turns out, he had been thrown to the future after a battle in 2024 with the Reverse Flash. With  _ me _ . Of course, neither of us knew at the time that that was to be my destiny. We hit it off immediately, him being curious to learn more about the “future Flash” and I being obsessed with him. There was a time that we worked together, as partners, stopping crime and saving people side by side. It didn’t last,” Eobard said bitterly. 

“He meant everything to me.  _ Everything _ . But I meant nothing to him. He treated me like Robern did, little more than a waste of his time. An annoyance. I would never be Wally West or Cisco Ramone or Iris  _ fucking _ West or...or,” he rambled, clenching his fists and shaking violently. 

“Hey, hey,” Barry said, grabbing his arm to steady him. “It’s ok, just...calm down, alright?”

Suddenly, Eobard was furious at Barry. 

“I don’t even know why I’m telling you this,” he hissed, rage bubbling under his skin. “You’re  _ Barry Allen _ . You could never understand. This is a waste of time,” Eobard spit, sitting up and sliding off the blanket. He dropped down from the roof and slammed open the door to the firetower. “I’m going to bed.”

“Wait, Eo!” Barry called frantically, sliding down after him. “I didn’t mean-- look, I’m sorry I brought up your past, I didn’t know...we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to! Eobard, wait!”

But by then Eobard had already switched off the lights and gotten into bed facing the wall and pulled the covers over his head.

“I didn’t know,” Barry whispered. 

Eobard didn’t care.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which there is a fish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO AGAIN. LONG TIME NO UPDATE, EH? I...I really have no excuse for why this took me like 4 months to get out. I just got distracted, but I PROMISE, one day I will finish this story. Promise.  
> This isn't my best chapter and I'm not super happy about the way it turned out, but now that it's done I can keep moving on to more exciting chapters that will be easier to write! Expect another chapter in the next day or two to make up for the fact that I went so long between updates.  
> Once again, thank you so much for reading this story, and leaving such wonderful comments!
> 
> (P.S. I know nothing about fishing. I'm sorry if this is all terribly wrong and it horribly offends you. Thanks to @UnknownSatellite84 for trying to help me, lol XD)

Eobard really didn’t feel like getting up the next morning. He didn’t feel much like getting up at all ever again, really. The morning sunlight that shown onto his face despite the fact that he had covered his head with a blanket was 1) annoying and 2) making it very difficult for him to go back to sleep, like _forever_ maybe. Or maybe he could just die. But wait, he was already dead, wasn’t he? Ugh.

Once again, Eobard felt the need to reflect on the fact that his life was in no way fair. He couldn’t even _die_ in peace.

The morning brought painful clarity to the fact that Eobard had practically poured his heart out to his nemesis the night before. Which, clearly, was not the plan. Those things about his past, about his parents, about Robern-- those weren’t things Barry Allen should know about. He knew it made him a hypocrite, wanting to know every single last detail about the Flash’s life yet wanting to keep his completely secret, but he didn’t care. Eobard’s past was his and his alone, no matter how tightly wound it may be with the Flash.

Eobard could hear Barry up and moving about, and sense him using the Speed Force nearby, but he just buried himself deeper into the covers. Maybe Barry would just leave and go do his birdwatching or something again.

Eobard guessed that he did actually fall back asleep again, because the next time he opened his eyes the light was different and Barry was shaking him awake.

“Ugh. Go away and leave me in peace for once in your life,” he mumbled grumpily, pulling his pillow even tighter over his head.

 “No. Wake up sleepyhead, it’s almost mid-afternoon,” Barry said, although it was muffled through the blankets.

 “I don’t care.”

 “Oh, come on. I have an idea, I think it’ll be fun, and I need you to help me,” Barry said, finally prying the covers off of Eobard and leaving him blinking angrily at the sudden increase in light.

 “Do you really?” Eobard asked, resignedly rubbing his eyes and sitting up.

  “No.”

Eobard shot Barry his best _well-why-the-fuck-did-you-wake-me-up-then_ look and was about to tell him exactly what sort of jerk he was when Barry cut him off, saying, “But it will work better if we both do it. Come on, it’ll be fun. I swear.”

 “Forgive me if I don’t take your word for it. I don’t even know what I’m agreeing to, “ Eobard grumbled as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up.

 “Eo, please,” Barry said, grabbing his arm and looking at him so earnestly that Eobard probably would have given Barry the whole world right then and there, had he asked for it.

 “Trust me,” Barry pleaded. “You’ll enjoy this.”

  “Ugh. Fine. Whatever you want,” Eobard muttered, but admittedly he was already feeling better.

Not five minutes later, Eobard was chasing Barry’s golden lightning as they both sped out beyond the fire tower.

 “Where are we heading?” Eobard asked, voice garbled and distorted from shouting through the Speed Force.

 “You’ll see,” was all Barry said, before speeding up and leaving Eobard in a trail of lightning. Eobard shook his head at Barry’s frankly unnecessary dramatism but hurried to follow him anyways.

At first Eobard thought Barry was just heading to the lake, but to his surprise the other speedster kept running. When Eobard finally caught up with Barry’s winding trail of lightning, he found himself by the small pond created at the bottom of the huge, roaring waterfall they had found when they went on their hike several days ago. Barry stood on a small embankment on the far side, holding up two identical fishing rods.

 “Over here! Catch!” Barry called out, and Eobard had to use his speed to rush over and catch the rod before it fell into the pond.

  “Really? Fishing? Are you serious?” he asked.

  “Yeah, remember how we saw all those fish here last time? Well I found these fishing poles and thought it might be fun to give it a go.”

  “Barry, I don’t even know the first thing about fishing,” Eobard tried to protest, but Barry quickly shushed him.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll help you. It’s not too hard, I’m sure you’ll pick it up quickly. I’ve already set up the rigs anyways, all we need to do is put out some bait.”

   Eobard rolled his eyes and sighed. “I don’t know what any of that means, but sure. Whatever. I’ll indulge you,” he mumbled, shuffling over to stand next to Barry.

  “Oh, you’ll _indulge me_ , will you?” Barry teased, giving him a shit-eating grin.

 Eobard scoffed and shot back a sarcastic smile. “Shut up. It’s just a figure of speech. So tell me, how do we go about setting up this “bait?” he asked, eager to change the subject.

 “Well, we need to put some meat on the fishhooks. Typically one would use worms, but I don’t really fancy digging some up right now so I thought we might just use some of the minnows in the pond instead.”

Eobard raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, but if we’re going fishing, and need fish as bait for said fishing, how are we going to get the fish for fishing without, you know, fishing? Seems like a bit of a logical fallacy to me.”

“Watch this,” Barry said, grinning. Then, faster than the blink of an eye, Barry lunged down and grabbed a minnow that had been darting in and out of the reeds growing in the shallow water.

“Ta da!” He held the small, wriggling fish up in his hand and quickly placed the fishhook through its body.

“If we can catch fish like that, why do we need the fishing poles?” Eobard questioned, skeptically.

“Because where would be the fun it that?” Barry laughed and grabbed a minnow for Eobard to use as bait. “Here.”

“Ughh. Ick. You do it, I don’t want to touch that thing,” Eobard gagged, wrinkling his nose. “Its guts will get all over my hand!”

“Well, we can’t have that, now can we?” Barry mocked, even though he quickly placed the minnow on Eobard’s fish hook anyway. “Hey, isn’t that pretty hypocritical? You’re totally cool with phasing your hand through somebody’s ribcage, but you won’t stab a fish. What’s that all about?”

Barry handed the fishing rod over to Eobard, who took it up somewhat reluctantly.

“Fish are just...ick. They’re wriggling and slimy and they smell bad when they’re dead.”

Barry laughed. “Fair enough. Okay, we’re going to cast our lines now- I’ll go first and show you how it’s done, and then you can just copy what I do.” In a swift and sophisticated motion, he flicked the line and the rod over his head and it sailed off to land a distance out into the water.

“Nicely done. But I have no idea what you did, so maybe it’s best if you did mine for me?”

Barry sighed and held out his hand. “Fine. We’ll trade- you take this one.” Eobard obligingly took the rod from Barry and handed him his own, then watched as Barry copied the action he had done moments before.

Then they stood there, standing in silence, holding identical fishing rods, (and in Eobard’s case, at least) feeling pretty stupid.

“So, uh, now what?” he prompted.

“We wait,” Barry said, not taking his eyes off of where his fishing line had disappeared into the pond.

“That’s...it? We just...wait? For how long?”

“As long as it takes for a fish to take the bait.”

“And how long will that be?”

“I dunno.”

“I...you...Barry,” Eobard whined, “Please don’t make me wait. I’m a speedster, I’m not good at waiting!”

“This will be good practice for you then, won’t it?”

“AAAaaagh. You’re infuriating, Allen.”

Barry cocked his head and grinned over at Eobard.

“Yeah, but that’s why you love me, isn’t it?”

God, Eobard was going to kill that man.

“It...what...I....no,” he sputtered, choking on his words. “That’s not...I can’t…”

All of a sudden, there was an aggressive tugging sensation coming from the fishing rod in Eobard’s hands, immediately distracting them both.

“Oh my god! Oh my god, Barry what do I do? Something took the bait! WHAT DO I DO??” Eobard screamed.

“Hey! Hey, calm down, it’s just a fish! All you do is hold tight and reel it in. Crank this lever right here,” Barry said, guiding Eobard’s hand to a part slightly higher up on his fishing rod.

“Okay, okay, I’ve got this,” Eobard muttered, pulling back on the fishing rod and reeling his line in. “You’re no match for the Reverse Flash, stinky fish.”

The fish pulled the line taut but Eobard fought back, widening his stance for more balance and reeling in faster.

“Keep going! I think you’ve almost got him!” Barry encouraged.

“You really think soooo-” Eobard began, but of course, Eobard being Eobard, that’s when he lost his footing and slipped on a patch of mud, falling right into the pond.

He just sat there for a moment in the shallow, cold water in shock and surprise. He’d lost track of his fishing rod and his clothes, socks and shoes included, were now covered with mud and pond scum, not to mention soaking wet. That’s when he noticed that Barry was laughing at him.

“Stop it!” he protested. “It’s not funny!”

“It’s...kinda...funny,” Barry gasped out between bursts of laughter. “You look like, I dunno, a wet kitten- sitting there looking all surprised with your big, sad eyes.”

Eobard snorted. “I guess...it’s kind of funny, isn’t it? I slipped on a patch of mud and now I’m sitting in a pond in my clothes. Bested by a fish.”

Barry reached out his hand to help Eobard up, and he gladly took it.

“Mind you,” Eobard said, “I guess this means you’re out of a job. Some fish out there is my nemesis now.” He tried to shake some of the excess water and gunk off his clothes, but to no avail.

“I’m going to take my clothes off to dry- find me a rock to dry them on, would you?” Eobard asked, pulling his shirt over his head.

Barry gawked at him. “You’re gonna...take your clothes off?”

“Well yeah, how else are they going to get dry? And since they’re wet, I’m not going to keep _wearing_ them. Go on, find a rock, preferably one with the sun shining on it,” he said, shooing Barry off. What did he think, that Eobard was going to run back to the fire tower in wet clothes? What kind of uncultured maniac did Barry think he was? And he didn’t care if it made Barry uncomfortable- the man kind of deserved it, after his “you know you love me” comment.

_Of course I love him_ , Eobard thought, _but he has no business knowing that._ And hey maybe Eobard could imagine that in a better world, Barry might even enjoy Eobard taking off his clothes.

“As if,” Eobard sighed, sliding off his pants, but leaving his boxers on.

“Hey, I think I found something!” Barry called. Eobard looked around, but he couldn’t place where the voice was coming from.

“Barry? Have you found a rock?” he shouted back.

“No. Yes. Sort-of. I actually found a lot of rocks, but that’s not the interesting bit. Come over here!”

“Where?” Eobard looked around, but he still couldn’t see anything.

“Over here!” he heard Barry shout, then felt a handful of pebbles pelt him in the back.

“Ow! Was that really necessary?” Eobard asked, rubbing the back of his head tenderly and turning towards the direction the pebbles had come from.

“Yes,” Barry said, popping his head out from behind a rock. “Now come look!”

“Whatever,” Eobard grumbled, gathering up his soaking clothes and following Barry.

Barry darted across a couple boulders into a shadow- or what looked like a shadow at first glance.

“Is that...a cave?” Eobard said, jaw dropping.

“Yep!” Barry shouted back happily, his voice echoing off the walls. “And look at this- there’s stuff in here!”

“Stuff?” he said, laying his clothes down at the entrance to the cave and following Barry inside. “What kind of stuff?”

He found Barry sat down a table- someone had set up a whole living area in the cave, complete with chairs, bookshelves, and a cot.

“Does someone live here?” Eobard wondered aloud. “If so, where are they? And how is there light in here?”

“There’s, ah, some cracks. In the rock above. They let the light in, I think,” Barry muttered distractedly, thumbing through a book on the table.

“This is incredible- and look at this cave! It looks like it could go on forever; we’re just sat up on a tiny alcove! I can see a whole water system down there, a whole lake!”

“Eobard, I think you’re going to want to see this.”

“And look! Waaay over there, there’s an opening and the trees are growing in through there! That’s amazing!”

“No really Eobard, I think you absolutely have to see this,” Barry whispered.

“What could be more important than-” Eobard said, whirling around, and then noticed Barry’s face.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

Barry didn’t answer. He simply handing over the book he was holding for Eobard to see. Eobard began to scan the page, eyes quickly jumping over the words.

“But that’s...how is that possible?” He whispered, looking up to meet Barry’s eyes. “You didn’t...so then how could this be here?”

“I don’t know,” Barry said, face white as a sheet. “But I have a feeling that this world is even more complicated than we imagined.”

Eobard’s eyes fell back down to the page, the words searing into his mind. The ink of a line in the middle of the page caught the light, almost appearing to shimmer.

_My name is Barry Allen and once upon a time, I was the fastest man alive._

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> here, have some PLOT

 

“This isn’t possible,” Eobard said again, flipping through the pages of the book. “Clearly you didn’t write this, but if you didn’t, then who did?”

“Read further,” Barry said. “I think you’ll find the answer is right there.”

Eobard turned his eyes back to the book and read the first page again, more slowly this time.

 

_ Day 6, I believe. I don’t actually know how long I’ve been in this place. Time passes differently here- sometimes seemingly all at once, sometimes not at all. On top of that I vaguely remember fading in and out of consciousness when I first arrived here, and I don’t know how much time passed while I was out. _

_ I don’t know if anyone will ever read this, but even if not, I’m thinking it will be beneficial to keep a diary of what is happening to me, if only for my own sanity. _

_ My name is Barry Allen and once upon a time, I was the fastest man alive. First things first, basic backstory: I was born on March 14, 1989 in Central City. My parents names are-- or were, I guess-- Henry and Nora Allen. I suppose they might be dead now. I don’t know. It’s kind of hard to understand, what with time travel and all that. _

_ In 2020 I was working as a CSI at the Central City Police Department when a particle accelerator build by Dr. Harrison Wells and STAR Labs exploded, releasing a wave of dark matter into the atmosphere. On the night of the explosion, I was working in my lab when I was struck by lightning caused by the dark matter cloud and then was doused with chemicals that had spilled during the accident. They say I was in a coma for nine months after that. When I woke up, I found that I had gained the power to run at superhuman speeds through connecting to an energy source that since has been dubbed the “Speed Force.” I don’t know who came up with that name. One of the scientists at STAR Labs, probably.  _

_ Not long after receiving my powers, I realized that I could use what I could do to help people. I’d always wanted to help people, of course- that’s why I became a CSI- but with my speed I could do things that other people couldn’t: stop bullets in mid-air, outrun missiles, save people from burning buildings in no time at all. That was how this whole endeavor started- a desire to do good. Even now, I think I still live up to that ideal, even if there are some others that would disagree.  _

_ And that’s how “The Flash” was born. Not exactly the most original or awe-inspiring superhero name, but it fit and I liked it, so that was all that mattered. I set to work protecting Central City from threats, mundane and otherwise. The Rogues were particularly troublesome. You see, I wasn’t the only one affected by the particle accelerator explosion; there were many other “metahumans” that developed their own unique powers. But unfortunately, quite a few of them decided they’d rather use their powers to rob banks or get revenge rather than help people. Some of these people banded together, along with non-powered criminals like Captain Cold, to form the Rogues. They liked to think of themselves as my arch-enemies. Go figure.  _

_ Anyways, years passed and life happened, and before long I was (mostly) happily living a double life-- by day I was Barry Allen, accomplished CSI and loving husband of Iris West-Allen; but by night I was The Flash, superhero of Central City and founding member of the Justice League. Despite all the threats on the world and my life, everything was pretty ok. At least until HE showed up.  _

_ The Reverse Flash. Eobard Thawne. I didn’t know him by that name at first-- in the beginning it appeared that there was just some yellow-clad speedster menace roaming around Central City. The first time I clashed with him, however, it became apparent that that wasn’t the case. The man fought like a demon, almost like a force of nature. I barely escaped with my life.  _

_ We began to meet each other more and more often, almost seeking each other out-- him, because he wanted to kill me for some reason I didn’t know yet, and me, because I needed to stop this other speedster from terrorizing my city and I thought I was the only one who could do the job. The media started calling him the “Reverse Flash,” due to the fact that his suit had an opposite color scheme to mine and because he seemed intent on doing me harm. Every time we fought, he was surprisingly quiet- he never said much beyond the usual taunts or gave me any indication of why he was after me.  _

_ April 25, 2024 was when everything changed. The Reverse Flash and I were locked in our toughest battle yet, and I still had no idea why. Clearly this wasn’t just about taking down an opponent, or getting rid of Central City’s main superhero so that the field would be open for any criminal opportunists. There was something more going on here. Something personal.  _

_ Anyways, I was determined that I wasn’t going to let the Reverse Flash get away this time, so I pushed myself to run faster and harder than I’d ever ran before. He was faster than me, but I was convinced I could make up the difference with enough effort.  _

_ We had already been fighting for at least an hour and we both were starting to feel the effects of fatigue. He knew that he couldn’t hold on much longer, and finally decided to make a hasty retreat, but I couldn’t accept that I had gotten SO CLOSE to beating him with no result and chased after him.  _

_ He was the one who initiated the time jump. Up until then, I had no idea that speedsters could even run fast enough to travel through time, and I’d never run fast enough to make that particular discovery. Entering the time stream for the first time was a bizarre experience, but I was so focused on catching the Reverse Flash that I didn’t even really noticed we’d time traveled until it was already done. He’d tried to escape back to his own time- 2177 AD, I would later learn.  _

_ The result of two speedsters exiting the Speed Force at almost exactly the same time at high velocity was a massive sonic boom and electrical surge, right in the heart downtown future Central City. We were both briefly knocked unconscious by the blast, but fortunately I came to quicker than he did. I don’t think I’d really even processed that we’d traveled to the future yet until that moment, when I looked up at the skyline and everything was different and well,  _ futuristic.

_ Of course, I freaked. I don’t think that was an overreaction-- I think anyone who woke up in a strange place and in a strange time would be at least a little freaked out. I grabbed the (thankfully still unconscious) Reverse Flash and ran to a nearby alleyway to try to figure out what the hell had just happened.  _

_ That was when the Reverse Flash started to gain consciousness again. I started screaming at him, telling him to take me back to 2024, and he grabbed at me- probably trying to get me to shut up so that we wouldn’t draw attention in retrospect- and I tried to phase out of his grasp. But I was fatigued and stressed beyond imagination, and in my haste to escape, I phased my hands through his chest.  _

_ I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on his face when the lightning left his eyes: shock, horror, pain-- and I’m sure my expression was the same. I never meant to kill him. I never meant to kill anyone.  _

_ I think it goes without saying that I panicked. You don’t really think about where you’re going to hide the body after you’ve murdered someone; at least I never did. Everything seemed hazy after that, like I was in a dream. My body seemed to move of its own accord, mechanically throwing him over my shoulder.  _

_ After that, I ran. I ran as far North as I could, passing numerous towns and cities until there was nothing but ice and snow. When I finally reached the point where the ice met the freezing arctic waters, I stopped. I remember hesitating a bit before tossing him into the water, wondering if I should finally remove his mask and look on the real face of the Reverse Flash, but I ultimately decided against it. I had robbed him of his life; the least I could do was honor his privacy.  _

_ In retrospect, maybe I should have looked. What would happen later would certainly never have occured if I already knew the identity of the Reverse Flash. _

_ What I didn’t know at the time was that there was a witness to my crime. It just so happens that at the very moment I whisked the Reverse Flash into that alleyway, a young professor was taking a shortcut to work. You see, the commotion out in the streets from the electrical blast had clogged up the streets he normally took while walking to work. That professor’s name was Eobard Thawne.  _

_ He wasn’t the Reverse Flash yet at this point in the timeline. He wasn’t even a speedster. The alleyway was dark, and he didn’t yet have the senses to pick up all of the minute details, but he saw enough to know that he has witnessed a speedster murder someone.  _

_ Eobard later told me that that was the first time he witnessed the Speed Force being used in person. Up until then, he’d been a fan of the historic superhero the Flash, but the Speed Force had just been a theory. Nobody thought it was actually possible to move at superspeed; it was considered to be an urban legend. But after that night, Eobard knew that all his crackpot theories may not have been as crazy as his colleagues thought them to be.  _

_ I returned to Central City a few hours later. Since I had no idea how I had travelled in time or how to return to 2024, I was essentially stuck in the future. I had no money, no allies, not even a change of clothes. I figured it out, though-- mostly through stealing, I’m sorry to say.  _

_ It was impossible at first, since I had no records to use to take out loans or get a job, but I got by. Eventually I’d managed to forge some documents and managed to get a position as an assistant History professor at Central City University, under the name Barry West.  _

_ It was at the University that I met Eobard.  _

_ He wasn’t in my department, but everyone knew about the hotshot young professor of Chronodynamics. I didn’t know what that was at first, but as soon as I found out, I knew I somehow needed to get in contact with him. After all, who better to help me figure out the problem of how I got here than someone who was an expert in the theory of time travel? _

_ The first time I spoke with him was at some university function-- I don’t remember what. But I do remember that he was funny, and gorgeous, and brilliant. Utterly brilliant. When I finally managed to engage him in a discussion about time travel, he was very composed at first. Obviously he was just giving me the bare-bones explanations that he had given a million times before in small talk to people who had no idea what he was actually talking about and were just trying to make conversation.  _

_ But then I asked him a question about the plausibility of superspeed, and it was like a switch had flipped.  _

_ “You believe in them too, don’t you?” he had whispered urgently. “Speedsters. You believe they weren’t just a myth.” _

_ I said I did, an immediately he was whipping out his business holo-card and scribbling his number on the back.  _

_ “My office. Tomorrow, 4 o’clock,” he whispered, before slipping the card into my hand. I looked down to examine it and by the time I looked back up again, Eobard had disappeared into the crowd.  _

_ The next day I met him in his office, just like he’d asked. Right off the bat he started babbling excitedly to me about the theory of speedsters and what their powers might actually look like. I discussed it with him the best I could, while still trying to hide my identity as the Flash. I knew that everything Eobard was talking about was real, but I couldn’t just come out and say that. _

_ We talked for hours, long into the evening. By the time we realized how late it was we were both starving, so I casually suggested that we get dinner.  _

_ I was amazed at how easy Eobard was to talk to. I could say anything and he would always have something intelligent or witty to say back. That night at some dingy little diner nearby the university we talked about more than just time travel and speedsters. We talked about everything-- well, almost everything. There was, of course, that one big secret I couldn’t share, but I tried my best to say everything I could without dropping the “by the way, I’m actually a superhero from the past” bombshell.  _

_ One thing led to another and soon enough Eobard and I were meeting up regularly, almost daily, to talk about speedsters and time travel in his office or just to get dinner.  _

_ We soon reached a dead end regarding our discussion of speedster time abilities. There simply just wasn’t enough information out there. The main problem, Eobard said, was that it was very hard to get research funded and further the study of speedsters when nobody actually thought speedsters existed.  _

_ “It’s like trying to conduct a study on the effects of deforestation on unicorns,” Eobard said one time. “Nobody in their right mind is going to give you a grant for that.” _

_ I remember laughing at that.  _

_ “Are you comparing speedsters to unicorns?” I joked. _

_ “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe?” _

_ After that, it became clear that the only way I was going to figure out how to get home was through Eobard’s research. Therefore, there was really only one thing I could do. _

_ I suited up as the Flash once again, 153 years in the future. There wasn’t really much crime to take care of, so I mostly just did little stuff-- helping old ladies cross the road, stopping bicycle accidents, rescuing kittens from trees. But just like I’d hoped, the media caught on and soon enough the news feeds were filled with articles about the reappearance of the Flash in Central City. There were some out there that decried it as a hoax, but most people got the message: Speedsters were no myth.  _

_ It was almost comical how the same academics that had written Eobard off as delusional were now throwing praise at him every chance they got. But all this was secondary to Eobard, who could talk of nothing but the Flash. I probably should have been annoyed, but in all honesty, I found it adorable how excited he was. He was happy, so I was happy too.  _

_ Eobard and I spent so much time together those days that more often than not people thought we were dating. I was honestly sort of shocked-- I hadn’t even thought about it, really. After all, I was still married to Iris back in 2024, and I’d never had reason to think I was anything but straight.  _

_ Turns out Eobard proved me wrong about that, too. _

_ We were at some big function celebrating the newest in a series of research grants Eobard had been awarded for his work on the Speed Force and Chronodynamics. It was late January and Central City was having one of its rare snowstorms (at least in 2178). Snow was falling as I walked him home, and we had both enjoyed the open bar a little too much. Even with my speedster metabolism, I was still feeling pretty tipsy. _

_ We’d stopped on the stoop of his apartment to say goodbye for the night when he kissed me. Or maybe I kissed him. It doesn’t really matter; the result was the same.  _

_ That was the moment that I realized I’d fallen in love with Eobard Thawne. Nobody understood me like he did. Nobody had ever acted so genuinely thrilled to keep me company. The way I felt when his lips were on mine was something I’d never experienced before with anyone else, and in all honesty, I never have again.  _

_ And perhaps in a different world, a better world, that would have been the end of it. We both could have been satisfied. But Eobard is Eobard, and I’m me.  _

_ For a time we were both happy. Everything seemed brighter and easier, as it so often does when you’re as in love. But it was only a matter of time before I started feeling guilty. After all, I was still married to Iris and even though it was decades in the past, I didn’t like the idea of cheating on her. Not to mention my ultimate goal was still to return home-- that was the only thing that had sustained me for quite a while and I didn’t like the idea of giving it up.  _

_ Eobard had a secret too. For several weeks he’d been hard at work gathering artifacts from all my various outings as the Flash. Some objects had retained remnants of the Speed Force after I had interacted with them, and Eobard, brilliant as he was, had managed to reverse-engineer the speed formula just from those remnants.  _

_ I was making dinner for the both of us when I got the call from the lab that Eobard was being taken to Central City General Hospital. He’d said he would be working late that night; I’d asked him what he was doing, but of course he just grinned and told me, “It’s a surprise.”  _

_ In reality, he was instigating the final tests of his Speed Force formula. But he’d overestimated the amount of voltage he needed and the lab exploded with him inside it.  _

_ I think you can guess what happened. Eobard was lucky; he was only in a coma for three days before he woke up, instead of nine months like me. After he woke up, his family freaked and insisted that he stay with them, so I was on my own. I didn’t know Eobard had become a speedster yet, so mostly I was just worried about him and worked through my anxiety by being the Flash.  _

_ I was out on patrol, and it was a pretty busy night, all things considered. I was handling some small-scale bank heist when I was suddenly joined by a blur of yellow and red. It was Eobard, although I didn’t recognize it at the time. All I could see was the Reverse-Flash-- the man I’d murdered.  _

_ Eobard, ever the fanboy, once discovering his speed had donned one of his Kid-Flash costumes and rushed out to meet the Flash. The moment I saw a speedster in yellow at the bank I panicked and ran for it, but even then Eobard was just as fast as I was. He chased me to a dead end in Keystone, confused as to why I was running. _

_ “How are you here?!?” I remember screaming at him. “You can’t be here! I killed you in the alleyway, months ago! You’re dead!” _

_ Eobard, to his credit, didn’t freak out as much as I probably would have had someone yelled those things to me. _

_ “That night in the alleyway...you killed me? The Flash killed me?” he whispered in horror. My blood ran cold at this too. I’d had no idea that there had been any witnesses to my accidental murder, and I was just putting together now that somehow the Reverse-Flash’s younger self had somehow been there and seen me doing the deed. Fearing that he was going to get me found out, I became determined to catch him at all costs, but Eobard had the benefit of new speed and adrenaline and escaped.  _

_ A few days later Eobard’s family deemed that he was well enough to return home to his apartment and I was there to greet him, neither of us still having any idea who the other really was. We were cuddling on his couch when he whispered to me, “Barry, I have something to show you. Something that proves all our theories on speedsters and time travel are real.”  _

_ That’s when he showed his speed to me the first time.  _

_ It all crashed down on me at once, all the pieces finally slotting into place to reveal the whole, horrifying picture.  _

_ “You can’t be,” I whispered, horror edging into my voice. Eobard Thawne, my boyfriend, and the man I loved was the Reverse-Flash; the same speedster that had tormented me for seemingly no reason in 2024 and I’d murdered and thrown into the ocean just over a year before.  _

_ “I can’t be what? A speedster?” Eobard asked in confusion.  _

_ “I’m sorry...I have to leave. I have to leave right now, Eobard,” I said, before leaping out the door. I didn’t see Eobard again after that. He tried to call me, message me, even show up at my door, but I refused to answer him. I could bear that somehow, through some cruel twist of fate I’d killed the man I loved.  _

_ I can’t tell you exactly what happened in Eobard’s life after that, but I can make a pretty good guess. Eobard realized that the Flash was going to kill him, so he harnessed all the research we had done into speedster time travel and finally figured out the secret I never had, and unlocked the power to travel back to a time the Flash hadn’t killed him yet.  _

_ But before he left, he decided he might as well safeguard his future here too by filling the Flash in 2178 as well. There was a huge warehouse fire out to the South, and I’d rushed down to help out. I never even saw him coming.  _

_ One moment I was lifting some people out of danger, and the next I was being thrown against a wall in the burning building, the Reverse-Flash’s arm through my chest.  _

_ “I thought I’d return the favor, Flash,” he sneered from behind me, “Seeing how you murdered me last time.” _

_ I turned around to face him, and to my horror, any remnants of the Eobard Thawne I had fallen in love with were gone from his eyes. Only the Reverse-Flash remained now.  _

_ I started to whisper his name, to plead with him, but it was too late. He threw me into the flames, and that’s the last thing I remember before waking up here. _

_ Over the past few days I’ve questioned whether or not Eobard ever found out that Barry Allen and the Flash were the same person, because I don’t think he did. The last time we met, he never made any allusions to my secret identity, nor did the Reverse-Flash come after me at home, in both 2178 and 2024 alike. I’m grateful that he never realized, I think. That was the worst part-- knowing that I had created my own demons, and killed a person I didn’t even know I loved yet.  _

_ After the fire I woke up in this place, near the waterfall. It was raining hard and my suit was badly burnt, so I went into the caves for shelter and to my surprise, there was a whole shelter set up here, unused. Almost as if it was waiting for me. I’ve been in and out of consciousness and thus haven’t had much of a chance to venture beyond these caves, but once I’m back on my feet I plan to explore this area to find out where and when I am, and if there is any way out of here. In my heart, I don’t think there will be. I know I died; there was no way to survive a fist to the chest AND a raging inferno. Therefore I can only assume that this place must be some sort of afterlife. _

_ Anyways. _

_ I didn’t intend to write all this. But once I started, I couldn’t stop. All your sins wear deep on you when you’re alone with your thoughts. _

_ Signing off, _

_ Bartholomew Henry Allen _

  
  


Eobard stared down at the book in his hands, speechless. Barry, who had been reading over his shoulder was silent as well.

“...Barry,” Eobard said softly after a few moments, “What is this?”

Barry looked as shaken as Eobard felt.

“I don’t…” Barry trailed off. “I don’t know.”

“You didn’t write this.” It wasn’t a question.

“No, it… I’ve never seen this before in my life. None of that,” he gestured to the pages they had just read, “ever happened to me. I’ve never been to 2177.”

Eobard trailed his fingers over the words on the page, lightly feeling where the ink was raised.

“It didn’t happen to me, either,” he whispered. 

He should have been ecstatic, Eobard thought passively. Here was  _ written proof _ that in at least one version of the timeline, he and Barry had been together. They’d been  _ lovers _ . 

But it felt hollow. Even in the timeline where they’d managed to get together, they’d still ended up killing each other without even knowing it. 

“Eo...Eobard,” Barry said.

“Hmm?” Eobard said, looking up to meet his eyes. 

Barry swallowed hollowly. 

“There’s...there’s more,” he said, gently reaching down and flipping the page. “The page was dog-eared, I saw more writing…”

And sure enough, this other Barry, speaking to them through this forgotten diary, still had more to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed this EXTRA LONG BOI due to the fact that I can't write to a schedule.... this guy got so long that I had to add a whole extra chapter to the fic, but that works out in your favor because more content i guess?  
> anyways, thanks for reading and sticking with this fic. It really does mean a lot!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst! Exposition! Revelations! The author's poor art skills! This chapter has it all!

_Day 9. I finally felt up to exploring beyond the cave, so I went out and scoped around a bit. Assuming around 2,000 steps per mile, I ran for about 3 miles parallel to the waterfall before I hit some sort of barrier- It has the illusion that you can continue on past it, but in reality it’s as if there was a huge, invisible wall constructed right through the heart of the forest. Intrigued, I tried to follow the barrier as far as I could. It curved, although gradually, but I continued to follow it through a variety of different biomes, making sure not to lose track of the barrier by holding my hand along it as I ran._

_I ran into a problem when the barrier seemed to span an incredibly deep and wide chasm. Fortunately, the point I was at was narrower than some other areas I could spot further down, so I backed up aways and attempted to jump. There was the risk that I had miscalculated how far I would be able to go, but I figured that since I was already dead it wouldn’t be much of a problem if I fell into the chasm. What was I going to do, die twice?_

_Thankfully I made it and continued to follow the invisible barrier along its curving path, even to the point where it met up with the chasm again and I had to jump it once more._

_It wasn’t too long before I made it back to the point that I started at, leaving me to believe that this barrier is forming some sort of dome over the area I’m in, although I don’t know for what purpose. In the end I counted about 30,100 steps, making the total circumference around 150 miles, perhaps a little more or less considering the jumps I made and basic human error._

_For a matter of inquiry I tried running up the barrier like i would if it were a building, but I only slammed right down into the ground again. If there’s a way out of here, it’s not an easy solution._

_Signing off,_

_Barry Allen_

 

_Day 10. Did some exploring around the dome today, and found quite a few interesting things: there’s a centrally located lake, which feeds into the waterfall by where I’m staying, and nearby it are a small supply shed and perhaps more importantly, a fire lookout tower. Both the shed and the tower seem to be in the same stocked-but-unused condition I found the cave in when I first arrived. I think I’ll stay in the cave, however: it seems like a harder to find and more easily defensible location, should it come to that. But since I seem to be alone in this place, I don’t know if it will._

_A small clearing near the side of the lake seems to be the center point of the dome; at least from my probably less-than-accurate step measurements it seems to be the point from which the radius of the dome in any direction is about 12 miles. However, I’m no cartographer, so what do I know about any of this._

_That brings me to another problem I’ve discovered: both here in the cave and up in the fire lookout tower there are some maps of the area, but all of them seem to be either wildly inaccurate or outdated. All of them assume that there isn’t some gigantic-ass dome above us, but clearly there is, so I don’t think I can trust these maps. It seems to be just yet another way that this world refuses to make sense._

_Signing off,_

_Barry Allen_

 

_Day 14. He’s here. The Reverse Flash is here._

 

_Day 15. Okay, so I realize that I was a little abrupt with my entry yesterday and should probably provide a little more context. I think I’m a little more calm than I was then, but to be honest I’m still pretty shaken. I don’t know if that’s the best word for it, but it’s the best I can think of right now and I’m too tired to play thesaurus._

_I was exploring more to the Western side of the dome (at least I’m calling it the Western side, because it’s where the sun sets, but who knows) because when I woke up and ran to the supply shed to see if it had oatmeal (it didn’t), I saw a trail of smoke rising up from that direction. Naturally I was curious so I ran over there, getting over the chasm by leaping at one of the narrower points. It was indeed a fire, and although I don’t know anything about wildfires, it seems to be growing pretty fast. It hasn’t jumped the chasm yet so I think I’m still fine for now, but I’m still concerned. Right now, however, it isn’t even in my top ten list of most immediate problems._

_I was running back to the cave when I saw him. I had just passed a small meadow of wildflowers next to a small pond when I saw the unmistakable yellow suit. Eobard seemed to be passed out near the shore of the pond, and in my surprise I halted in my tracks immediately. Quickly hiding behind some bushes, I was torn with what to do. Part of me wanted to run up to him and help him, see if he was hurt and all that, because despite being the Reverse-Flash he was still_ Eobard _. However, I was also wearing my Flash outfit and I also knew that regardless of whatever point in the timeline he was from, he would still be less than happy to see the Scarlet Speedster._

_Turns out I didn’t have to choose, as at that moment Eobard came to and sat up dazedly. The first thing he did after pulling off his mask was put a hand to his chest-- a pretty innocuous movement, but my stomach dropped. I knew what he was doing-- he put his hand on the exact spot I’d phased my hand through his chest all those months ago. I know because I did the exact same thing when I woke up. I’d felt the spot where I’d been murdered and wondered just how exactly I was still alive._

_This was the Reverse-Flash, seconds after I’d murdered him in that alleyway. Maybe this really was the afterlife, then. Immediately I knew I had to get out of there before he saw me and murdered me (again), but as I turned to leave I tripped in the underbrush, snapping several branches and causing a family of birds to flee rapidly from the bush-- instantly revealing my hind place. Eobard’s head snapped up and I barely had time to get to my feet before he lunged at me._

_“YOU!” he screamed at me, slamming me to the ground. “MURDERER!”_

_I shoved him off and pinned his arms behind his back and then said, “Well, I could say the same thing,” in a voice that made me appear a whole lot calmer than I actually felt._

_“WHY DID YOU KILL ME?” he yelled, struggling, but thankfully I was able to keep him in place._

_“It was an accident,” I whispered._

_“WHAT? I CAN’T HEAR YOU, MURDERER!”_

_“IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, OKAY! I NEVER MEANT TO KILL YOU, EOBARD!” I yelled, before fully realizing what I was saying._

_Instantly he went still, and my blood went cold._

_“What did you say?” Eobard said hoarsely. “How...how do you know that name?”_

_I knew that I’d utterly fucked things beyond the point of no return, so I threw caution to the wind and figured that I probably deserved whatever was coming next._

_“Because,” I said softly, rolling off him and letting him go, “Because I know you. The real you. And you’re not the Reverse-Flash.”_

_He sat up and glared at me, rubbing his arms where I’d pinned them down, but he didn’t attack me again._

_“What the hell do you mean? I AM the Reverse-Flash. Your ultimate enemy, and the man who killed you. All of these things are FACTS. And that still doesn’t explain how you know my name.”_

_“You weren’t always the Reverse-Flash. Once you were Eobard Thawne, Professor of Chronodynamics at Central City University,” I replied, ignoring the pang that those words made my heart feel._

_“Yeah, until I watched my own murder!” he spit, eyes blazing._

_“It was an accident,” I repeated, desperately trying to hold back the tears that were forming in my eyes. “I didn’t know what I was doing, and even if I did…” I trailed off._

_I started weeping; I couldn’t hold back any longer._

_“I never wanted to hurt you, but I have! And in so many different ways! This is all my fault!”_

_Eobard shifted, his anger evidently replaced by discomfort._

_“Are you... crying?” he asked in disbelief. “What the hell does the Flash have to cry about?”_

_I couldn’t take it any longer. I tore off my mask and looked him dead in the eyes._

_“Everything, Eobard,” I said weakly. “Everything.”_

_At once he went white as a sheet; fear, shock, and confusion running through his eyes._

_“Barry?”_

_I laughed, but it was hollow._

_“Yeah. I didn’t tell you, but, uh, I’m the Flash. Surprise,” I answered darkly._

_“You can’t be. No, this- this must be a trick or something! I can’t… my Barry wouldn’t…” Eobard stuttered in disbelief._

_“It’s true, Eobard. The whole time I knew you, in 2177 and otherwise, I was the Flash. Why do you think I approached you about speedster time travel in the first place? I never figured out how to use my speed to time travel, and got stuck after our battle in 2024 when you jumped to the future.”_

_“That means,” he said hoarsely, “It was all a lie, wasn’t it? Our whole relationship, all our time together, you were just using me.” Eobard let out a sob. “And to think...I even loved you! I...I was going to marry you!”_

_Now it was my turn to freeze in shock._

_“What?” I asked in a small voice._

_Eobard was crying now, too. “That night-- that night that I first showed you my speed, I was going to propose to you then. I was going to show you that all our research was RIGHT, it was all real! I was going to tell you that I’d perfected the formula, and I knew how to make you a speedster too! I wanted to SHARE that with you!” he screamed, face contorting in rage. “BUT IT WAS ALL A GAME TO YOU! A PLOY, TO GET YOU BACK TO THE PAST! I_ **_HATE_ ** _YOU!”_

_He hit me hard, snapping my head back and breaking my nose. Then he pounced on top of me, pounding his fists into my face again and again between sobs._

_When my face was pouring blood and good and well bruised, he finally stopped, choking out another quiet, “I hate you.”_

_“It wasn’t...a lie...Eobard,” I said with difficulty, blood from my nose pouring down my face and into my mouth. “I love you.”_

_“Get AWAY from me!” he yelled, throwing me to the side. “LEAVE!”_

_Coughing up blood, I shakily got to my feet. “Eobard…” I murmured._

_“LEAVE!” he sobbed, tears coating his cheeks._

_Sparing him one last glance, I turned around and sped back to the cave in defeat._

_That was yesterday._

_I haven’t seen Eobard again, but I also haven’t left the cave since I returned here bloodied and bruised. However, I have to assume that he’s still out there somewhere and inevitably, we will meet again._

_Signing off,_

_Barry Allen_

 

“Okay,” Barry said weakly, once they had finished reading, “I just want to say, for the record, holy _SHIT._ ”

“Uh, yeah,” Eobard replied, eyes still fixed to the page, particularly the part where an alternate version of himself was planning on proposing to Barry Allen.

“Like what the _literal_ fuck,” Barry continued, running his hands through his hair anxiously. “How did...I mean… that’s not _you_ and that’s also not _me_ so how the hell is it here? With us?”

“I don’t know.”

“And, like, we’ve been here in this Speed-Force place for quite a while now, but neither of us has ever seen anyone else? Especially not ourselves??”

“Wait-” Eobard said, eyebrows wrinkling in thought. “What was that you said? This ‘Speed-Force place’?”

“Well, yeah. Didn’t we have this discussion before? I walked into the Speed Force to save Central City. And you were here because you got erased from existence.”

“Again.”

Barry shot him a look. “Yes, _again_ . Anyways, that’s not the point. The Barry in this diary wondered if this was some sort of afterlife-- I think he’s not far off. This is an afterlife of sorts, but just _inside the Speed Force_ . It’s an afterlife for _speedsters_. That’s why there’s no regular people here.”

“But then where are this other Barry and Eobard? Why haven’t we run into our alternate-timeline doppelgangers? It says-- well, it says here that the world we’re in is some sort of dome,” Eobard said, flipping to the page where other-Barry had made that observation.

“If this dome is only 150 miles in circumference, that means-” Eobard did some quick math in his head, “That means that the total area of this dome is only about 452 miles. That’s big, but not _that_ big. So why haven’t we seen either of them? They were obviously here, they would have had to be in order to leave these notes.”

“Notes…” Barry murmured. Suddenly, his eyes widened. “Eobard! The notebook!”

“Oh my god, you’re right,” Eobard said.

“Where is it?” Barry asked urgently.

“I left it in the tower-- with the log book.”

“Then let’s go!” Barry said, before racing off in a blur of yellow lightning.

Eobard, still in his sopping wet clothing from falling into the pond, whispered “Damn you, Barry,” before hastily grabbing other-Barry’s diary and speeding off after him.

 

Despite the fact that his shoes were completely waterlogged and he was still utterly drenched, Eobard managed to make good time back to the firewatch tower, arriving there only a few seconds after Barry.

“Thanks for leaving me soaked and in the dust,” he said, throwing the diary down on the bed and picking up some dry clothes.

“Anytime,” Barry said with a cocky grin, and Eobard shook his head, dashing down to the outhouse to change. Once he was finished, Eobard hung his wet clothes on the balcony and stepped back inside, at least 30% happier now that he was dry.

“Did you find the notebook?” he asked, walking over to where Barry was standing in the middle of the room.

“Yeah,” he said, handing the small black book to Eobard, “But that’s not all. Look at this!” he said, pulling out a faded and crumpled hand-drawn map from a stack of papers.

 

 

“It’s crude,” Barry said, “But something tells me it’s going to be more use to us than the other maps here. Diary-Barry did say they were inaccurate.”

“This wasn’t here before.”

“No, it wasn’t. But are you honestly surprised at this point?” He held out the map for Eobard to examine.

“No,” Eobard admitted, taking the map and holding it up so he could see it better. “But that’s life, isn’t it?”

He flipped the map over, and saw that the back was illustrated as well, but on a smaller scale.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/142323006@N02/41676480205/in/dateposted-public/)

“At least we have a better picture of where we are now,” Barry commented. “And in the diary other-Barry tells us how to get across the chasm so we can go check on the fire.”

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea,” Eobard said, still examining the map intently. He squinted at a tiny piece of writing on the side of the map, bringing it closer to his face so he could read it better.

“Holy shit,” he whispered.

“What? What is it?” Barry asked urgently. Eobard pointed to the inscription on the edge of the paper.

“Look at this,” he said.

 _‘Barry Allen, 2024’_ it read.

“Wait, but I didn’t make this-”

“Obviously.”

“-And the Barry from the diary was from 2178, so-”

“-It means there’s another Barry Allen around here somewhere,” Eobard finished.

“And one from 2024, at that,” Barry said, shaking his head and bringing his hands up to his face. “God, my head hurts.”

“You don’t have to tell me about it,” Eobard professed, setting down the map and turning his attention back to the notebook.

“You know, I actually met a Barry from 2024, not that long ago,” Barry said. “He was a bit, well, _depressing_ to be honest. Really not a fan. Although it might interest you to know that my 2000s-era emo hair did make a comeback.” Barry paused for a moment, thinking. “Although I suppose that timeline doesn’t exist anymore, not since H.R. died and I defeated Savitar.”

“Did you?” Eobard said faintly, setting down the open notebook on the table. “Are you sure about that?”

“Of course! That’s how I was able to save Iris! I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t defeated...him…” Barry faded off, catching sight of the page the notebook was open to.

There in the same messy handwriting from the previous entry that was Barry’s-but-not-Barry’s, was written:

 

 _I can see the way you look at me. The first time you saw me- this me, that is- I watched as the adoration in your eyes bled into fear. Your expression when you saw my face-- it was_ delicious _. How do you like it, realizing that your hero ruined your life? Or is going to ruin your life, in our case?_

_I can’t wait. I’ve dreamed of ruining you in so, so many ways, but I never thought I’d have the pleasure of doing it like this-- of once again meeting the young, innocent speedster who ran back in time to meet his idol and making him afraid._

_You’re hiding right now, but you can’t hide forever. This world isn’t big enough and you aren’t clever enough for that. I will find you. You aren’t safe in your gilded tower or labyrinth of caves or anywhere. This is my dreamworld-- you just happen to be here too. Run, Eobard- run for your life. It won’t matter in the end. How long do you think you can run from God himself? How long do you think you can run from Savitar?_

 

“So, this is, uh, less than ideal,” Barry said.

“Understatement of the century, Barry,” Eobard replied. “Understatement. Of. The. CENTURY.”

 

END OF PART I

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twice in one week, baby!! Existential dread and pain due to factors out of your control will do that to you. Anyways, yes, all of this has just been PART 1 of the fic. Sorry. :)
> 
> Also yes I did draw those crappy maps and fought with a copier for 3 hours today to get them uploaded and it still worked out poorly but this is why I'm not in IT. I tried, okay. I tried. 
> 
> And when will the next chapter come out? Well, we've seen what happens when I try to make a schedule so the real answer is I have no idea. 
> 
> Also, I forgot to mention it on the last update, but it's been over a year since I posted the first chapter! Happy 1 year anniversary! Hopefully I can finish this fic before another year passes!


End file.
